


Divine is the Soul that Sates

by ChromeHoplite, XanderB



Series: Divine is the Soul that Sates [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: A/B/O Elements, Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aphrodisiacs, Blood Drinking, Bond infections, Bondage, Consensual Possession, Crossdressing, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, Demonic wedding rituals, Demons, Exorcisms, Exorcist Ciel, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Angels, Fast smut, Ghosts, Jealous Ciel Phantomhive, Jealous Sebastian, Kidnapping, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bond, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Sebastian, Relationship(s), Revenge, Rough Sex, S&M, Sacrilege, Scent Marking, SebaCiel - Freeform, Seven Deadly Sins, Sexual Tension, Slow Romance, Smut, Switching, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Tsudere Ciel, demon sex perks, possessive ciel, supernatural sex, undersnake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 329,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/XanderB/pseuds/XanderB
Summary: He is the last Phantomhive, an exorcist bound by blood and without faith. Home to take his father’s place and receive that which is the family rite of passage, first and only born son of each generation spanning centuries. The servant, the pet, theweapon… He is Fallen, a deadliest of sins, starved and neglected, exiled and enslaved and bitter with it. So it ends where it begins, with Ciel and the divine, somehow familiar soul that resides in him.A family reunion from Hell, wagers with devils, deals with Death and falling impossibly in love. Betrayal and vengeance, heartache and hope, loyalty and faith, lust and love and salvation. If people are willing to do crazy things for love, what would angels and demons be willing to do for it?





	1. Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caity_cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caity_cat/gifts).



> First BB fic that either of us have written, hope you all enjoy it as much as we are!
> 
> Feedback is welcome, though any flames will be promptly shared and shamelessly laughed at. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: We don't own Kuroshitsuji. We've taken liberties and used both fact and fiction in regards to the religious lore, locations and demonology. It could be offensive; you've been warned.
> 
>  **Warning:** This work is rated mature for graphic depictions of nudity, sexuality, violence, and some imagery that may be disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of this chapter: Never take candy from a stranger.
> 
> ** Music **  
> Sebastian~ [ The Package by A Perfect Circle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqJJwv_Caaw&index=189&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [Teen Idle by Mariana & The Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjX3omhMR0g)

_Seven years_.

That’s how long it had taken Ciel Phantomhive to graduate from a four-year training program at the _Istituto Esorcismo di Torino_ that his parents had shipped him off to at the age of eleven. And once he had managed to get away from his despotic father, the family business and their _pet_ , he had been in no rush to return. Due to the far-reaching influence of his family as well as their infamy among certain religious circles, he had thought it better to go by the name L’Arc Paradis while studying in Italy. His parent’s money had afforded him a new identity, but it had also allowed him to live quite comfortably and put off his studies for semesters at a time while traveling extensively through the eerie Moorlands of Britain, exploring the sacred mysteries of the Vatican and sampling the finest illicit substances Europe had to offer. It was worth purposely and repeatedly failing Aramaic Translations (three times), Demonology (twice) and Religious Psychiatry (four times) to give him a reason to stay overseas, especially when he could have aced the courses in his sleep. 

_One more year_. It's all he owed Vincent. Do the training, work a single, solitary year and then move on to something else. Didn't care if his family’s name fell into disrepute; didn't need to rely on them anymore since he’d made more than enough money illegally trading and selling artifacts that were thought to have meaning, but in actuality had none.

_’One year,’_ he repeated to himself as the Bentley Rapier that had come to fetch him and his belongings at J.F.K International slowed in front of the grand stairway that led to the ornate mahogany double doors of Phantomhive Estate. He waited for the driver to come around and let him out and sighed at the amount of time it took. When he finally exited the luxury vehicle he couldn’t help but feel that it was like being released from one prison only to be forced to transfer to a more hellish one.

He eyed the estate with distaste, and pushed the long navy-black strands of his hair that had escaped the elastic band, out of his face. The driver got some of his bags from the trunk and made his way up the stairs as he followed, taking his phone out to check the time. Noon. Just in time for lunch, which wasn’t too bad, but it also meant that his mother would be out, leaving him alone with Vincent. 

He sighed and tapped his foot as he waited for the hired help to open the front door, only to watch the driver struggle with the bags he held. Rolling his eyes, he took a handkerchief from his overcoat, placed it on the handle, and before he could apply pressure to it, the door opened of its own accord. 

At first, he thought, _how odd_ , but when his father’s slate grey eyes met his own gunmetal blue, he took a step back and let the senior Phantomhive throw the door open to give them access to the grand foyer. 

“Ciel,” his father said with a curt nod, “You’re three weeks late. You’ve kept _us_ waiting.” 

Seven years had passed since he had last seen his father, and those years hadn’t been kind to Vincent Phantomhive. He had earned at least half a dozen new scars to his face alone, his hair hadn’t turned silver like many of his friends’ fathers, instead, it had chosen to part company with his scalp altogether. Most disturbing was his tenuous attachment to his eyepatch and Ciel recoiled looking at it, refusing to picture what lurked behind the intricate pattern of silken fabric. “It couldn’t be helped, Vincent. I had prior engagements that could not be broken.” 

“When you are summoned by your father, by your _superior_ , it is not merely a request for your presence, but an expectation that you present yourself and promptly,” the older man said through gritted teeth, barely concealing his anger. 

Ciel tilted his head, considering the man before him and tried to repress a smirk. He was no longer a child, and would not be treated as such. Instead of answering, he bypassed his father and made towards his old room, hoping that his parents had left it undisturbed and had not filled it with the random paraphernalia the family business would require him to possess. “My journey has been long Vincent, I took the redeye from Turin, had a six hour layover at Charles de Gaulle and once we were set to take off, we were grounded for another four hours. We flew across the Atlantic and since landing, I’ve sat in a car for eight hours. Next time, you might consider sending the private jet if you want me home expeditiously. So, if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted, and I want to get showered and rest before mother comes home.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Ciel. We have family business to attend to, and your presence is required in the basement.”

He was restless, had been restless for days, months... Years. Had it been so many that the days had bled into such? It was hardly an amount of time to one such as he that he cared to keep track of the exact number, but it was more than enough for him to be irritated... Perhaps irritated was too light a word to describe how it felt to be the slave, the _pet_ of a family such as the Phantomhives. It had been how many decades since he had been so naïve to end up in the servitude of a family of exorcists such as them? Shameful is what it was. He was not a demon to have fallen for such juvenile tactics, but he had and here he was to be passed on again to another generation, to be held in captivity and contempt of the singular heir of their name and what an heir he was. Beautiful and cold as the womb that had born him. 

He'd been waiting near on two decades to be transferred, given, _gifted_ to the young man that would be his master until he bred another or died out and left the demon trapped and listless. He'd been watching him for years, taking time of whatever of it he had to spare to observe the boy that would be his master. Ciel was unique, both colder and warmer than his predecessors, calculating, but more emotional than his father. He had taken after his mother in that way. Softer than his father whom he looked the spitting image of. It was intriguing, but no less infuriating. 

He'd spent all the young heir's life watching him in one form or another, raven more often than not, watching, seeing who he was, whom he would be in future. Ciel might be the last master he would have and if he had his way, perhaps the one that would free him of the curse that was Phantomhive. He'd belonged to them too long, betrayed so very many of his kin in that time. He wanted his freedom, had left his baser needs unquenched for too long. He was starving, and longing for more than he was given. He needed to be free and Ciel would be his freedom. 

And so he waited, waited and waited, impatient, but patient at once. He bided his time. Soon, the time was soon. He would have his freedom. He shifted in the shadows of his cage, a place he was kept when he was unnecessary and he knew... He had been counting the days, the hours, the minutes until he would belong to the youngest Phantomhive, until he could begin earning his freedom. He would have it and Ciel would provide it.

Ciel and his father made their way to the basement, and it frustrated the young heir to no end that despite the luxury and opulence of the estate, the basement was decrepit, damp and cold owing to the fact that it was the only original section of the estate left. The stone stairs were uneven and as he held onto the moist wall to secure himself, the torches below lit at once. He shuddered, knowing who had done it, not at all looking forward to seeing the _pet_ he had spent the past seven years trying to forget. And though he was able to busy himself sufficiently during his waking hours, the red animalistic stare, sharp, angular features and felinesque movements of Sebastian Michaelis plagued each and every dream he had. It unnerved him, completely unsettled him. 

When they had finally descended the length of the spiral staircase, Ciel’s eyes darted immediately towards the far end of the room where he knew the suspended cage would be occupied. He swallowed hard, and despite the coolness of the basement, felt the beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck.

Vincent did not seem to share the same aversion as Ciel did to the family’s _bound servant_ , and the youth wondered if it was because his father was used to the demon, or if it was because he was as unfeeling as his son thought him to be. At present, he was standing next to the cage, his neck easily accessible for Sebastian to tear away from his body through the spaces between the bars. 

Vincent bent over the table and rolled out a considerably yellowed parchment across it. “Come, Ciel. I’d like to get this done, the demon has grown restless since your absence and this will help somewhat.” 

“Help whom exactly, Vincent?” the young master asked dismissively. 

“Both of you. Now give me your hand.”

Sebastian lurked in the deeper shadows of his cage, watching with ember glowing crimson eyes from the depths of the darkness enshrouding his prison. He could hear them before they'd even arrived before the iron barring him from his freedom, the markings a searing white along the metal only visible in opalescence to he and his kin, the supernatural, the unclean and tainted. His nostrils flared and he could smell him, could practically _taste_ him; Ciel was home. The young man had finally returned to claim him as his own, to receive ownership of him as was his birthright to the family that had entrapped the demon to begin with. 

He salivated just fantasizing how delicious it would be to devour the youth, to destroy and mar and consume. The Phantomhives would have theirs, eternal damnation and no scraps left behind when he was finally free and had his vengeance. Their final heir would be their penance. He would have his freedom and he would have his pound of flesh. He would cultivate a trust with the young master and Ciel would lead him to his divine revenge. How sweet the taste of it would be when he found it, when it was served to him on a platter made of not silver, but platinum and drenched in the blood of his oppressors. What a feast it would be then... 

But the time was not yet, only soon and though his patience wore thin, he held fast to it. He could not be too hasty, could not lash out or pounce too soon. He would have the young man's trust, his devotion, and his sympathy before he would swallow the light inside him and it would be _glorious_.

He stepped closer to the barrier when Vincent prompted his son for his hand, for his soul, intent to rewrite the age old contract of their forefathers onto his flesh. The demon could feel an electric tingling, a deep seeded and eager anticipation. So close was he to his freedom now. He licked his lips, forked tongue flickering over the chill of the flesh, scenting, tasting. Just a little closer now.

Ciel’s eyes skimmed over the parchment, and few words caught his attention like _soul_ , _eternal_ and _blood_. The weight of his legacy was setting in at a dizzying rate, and he wondered if his father as well as the multitudes of Phantomhive descendants before him had felt as confounded and tempestuous by this rite of passage as he did. There was little to be done about it now, especially under the lurid gaze of both his father and his father’s servant, and so he wiped the sweat from his brow, rubbed the back of his neck, and paid more attention to the terms and conditions outlined in the contract in case anything had changed during his absence.

1\. The servant shall not lie to his charge  
2\. The servant shall keep his charge safe from death

Even though the words were barely legible, faded lamp black ink against the worn parchment, the words were familiar enough; he had heard his father echo them over and over in his childhood and they did not need to be newly committed to memory. Though in the margin, a third term had been added, and recently since its ink was still bold against its background. But its boldness was not the only way in which it differed, this one was crimson against the aging scroll. Blood, and presumably his father’s. 

3\. The servant shall not feign human affections to draw in his charge

Ciel wondered what it had cost his father to join the addendum to the millennium-long agreement; it didn’t matter though, if he were to add his own signature, his father would be altering it one final time before they went back upstairs.

By the time his eyes scanned the line above where his signature would be required, reality hit him like a steam engine and he needed to hold onto the table to steady himself. He shook his head, pursed his lips and took a series of shallow breaths through his nose.

_… bound by blood, the payment of services rendered upon termination of this contract will be one Phantomhive soul, to be devoured in the manner of the servant’s choosing_ ,

“I don’t see why this has to be done right this moment, Vincent. I’m tired, and I need time to consider…”

“No. You _had_ your time to consider, son. You took seven years to consider,” his father seethed. Clearly the man wanted to be rid of the burden of being bound to Sebastian as much as Ciel wanted to avoid it.

“I have no more choice than that, that _thing_ to be here,” he said, shooting his hand out towards the creature in the cage, “And this,” he said, nodding towards the contract, “You will need to amend it to adhere to our own terms, Father. I told you, one year; and I will not have my soul devoured afterwards to feed the likes of him.”

A dark chuckle sifted silkily through the darkness behind the bars as the demon’s silent pacing came to a halt, much closer than he had been before. He had to have a better look at the boy. So feisty the young master was, rebellious and Sebastian reveled in it. Surely, it would be at the least entertaining to be the servant of the youngest Phantomhive, certainly more so than his father had been. 

Vincent rarely allowed him his freedom unless he was needed, not that it had stopped him from sending his familiar beyond his cage to be his eyes and his ears over the years. He’d watched the beautiful child grow into an equally beautiful youth and an exquisite adult. Ciel was a lovely specimen of human form and his arrogant and rebellious nature only made him seem that much more delectable to the demon. How sweet his flesh would taste, how rich his soul would be upon the demon’s tongue when he would finally devour him, perhaps even before then if he could persuade the young man to allow him a sample.

He licked his lips again and hummed his appreciation for the young man’s pompous attitude as his shape changed to one more human, a guise that was easier for the creatures that had enslaved him. Nothing so terrible and much easier to forget his true nature when he looked as they did, especially when he could see the desires Ciel was hiding in his heart of hearts. The better to tempt his master if he appeared to his liking.

There was a rustling as ebony feathers bled into skin, staining it with the reflection of his wings upon his flesh, like ink on silk and he stepped closer to the bars, into the light where he could be seen at last. “You’ve kept me waiting in this prison long enough Vincent. I’ve a hunger and a need to stretch my wings. If you’d be so kind as to make haste… I’m _starving_.”

Ciel made to leave the basement, at least he had turned on his heel and taken a step towards the stairs when he heard the low, purring, demanding voice come through the bars. Its sound made the tiny hairs on his body stand, but it also stirred other sensations that ghosted the margins of his consciousness, the ones that he had tried to repress when he woke startled by insatiable desire, a void that could not be filled by anything human. He had hoped it would have faded the more miles he put between he and the Phantomhive estate.

He had been wrong. And as he stood there, with his father’s hand gripped tightly around his wrist, he was unable to divert his attention from the ideal form that had come to the forefront of the cage. The servant could no longer be referred to as _pet_ , at least not outside BDSM communities. He was perfect, every inch of him; from the uneven inky black hair tucked behind an ear to the prominent collarbones set against the defined musculature of his chest. As the young master moistened his lips with his tongue, his eyes strayed from the sculpted pectorals, to the sharp lines of Sebastian’s abdomen, and landed on the prominent “V”cut leading south; that was when he wondered if the servant’s flesh would be smoother and warmer to the touch than the cool, solid rock from which the statues of gods had been carved in the museums he had frequented in Europe.

_’To be devoured by such a creature’_ , he thought, _’Might not be the worst kind of –’_

Vincent’s grip loosened on his son’s wrist in time to grasp his jaw, effectively turning him away from the spectacle taking place in the cage. “You’re a servant, not some whore sent to seduce my son. You agreed to the third clause added to the contract and you won’t be warned again demon, so make yourself decent.” 

Sebastian snorted rudely in response to Vincent’s words. “Killjoy,” he murmured smokily beneath breath he had no real need to breathe, a wicked sharp smirk curling the corner of pale bowed lips. He shifted his weight almost imperceptibly and obeyed the order, dark threads crawling over his skin like the unravelling of spooled fingers, weaving intricately and knitting together over his bare flesh, obscuring his indecency from view. He only went so far as to cover his lower half, hardly modest or obedient enough to cover the rest of his human form from view, knowing he’d succeeded in garnering Ciel’s attention if only for a few fleeting moments. 

It had been there, boldly in the scent of him and in the endless azure pools of the young man’s eyes as they had traced over his skin, mapping his body as surely as his fingers would had Ciel been free to do so. Vincent’s threat was meaningless; there was no emotion, feigned or otherwise, no love, perhaps a fondness one might have for livestock raised affectionately only to slaughter and consume when it was satisfactory, but nothing more. The elder Phantomhive could do nothing to deter him; contract or no, he would do as he liked to entice and tempt his young master whenever he had the chance. Vincent was powerless to stop him from taking the form of his choice and even more so in the reaction it incited in his beloved heir. A victory; regardless of how small, it tasted sweet on his palate, a sampling of the vengeance to come. Oh how he would enjoy breaking down the Phantomhive heir, unraveling him, making him beg to be tainted, to fall from divinity and give in to sin. How delicious his family’s shame would be. He simply could not wait.

“Very well Vincent,” Ciel began, sneering his father’s name, “Let’s get this over with. First I want you to amend the contract...”

“That is something you will have to do yourself with Sebastian,” his father informed him, removing a high-wrought skeleton key from his pants pocket, taking a knee before the antiquated chest to the left of the table and unlocking it. He pushed the lid gently, carefully with both hands and took from it a chalice with the Phantomhive crest, an iron athame, a slab of soil stone that Ciel knew was used for sharpening, and a length of aged cloth that looked like it had wrapped a number of deceased individuals. “The procedure is quite straight-forward Ciel,” Vincent told him as he ran the blade repeatedly over the stone, “Although from what I recall, it is rather uncomfortable. You’ll need to remove your garments for the ritual, you can do so now while I finish up here.”

Ciel’s gaze fell upon the rolled up scroll on the table that had been flat moments ago and looked at his father hesitantly. “I don’t...”

“Now Ciel! Quit dallying,” his father barked, a sharp contrast to the high pitched sound of metal grating, scuffing and abrading stone. 

The younger of the Phantomhives took a ragged breath, trying to strengthen his resolve, refusing to appear weaker than he already had before the servant. He slipped out of the dress jacket he had yet to remove since arriving and laid it on the table. Taking his phone out from his back pocket, he checked the time before setting the device too on the table. Fifteen-thirty-three, or three-thirty three. Too perfect to be a coincidence; he knew from his studies that the number three was important in religious lore, but the fact that it was also a factor of the number six made him wonder if the time was correct or if Sebastian was playing with him. 

His gaze hardened as it fell upon the auburn-turned-crimson eyes of the caged servant to whom he would soon be bound. He shrugged out of his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt, never tearing his eyes away as he relieved himself of the garment; then grinning, he turned away from his audience, his hands ghosting over his dress pants. As he took them off, he prayed inwardly that his pulse would even out, knowing that if the demon could not hear it, he could probably see it beat against his neck and his wrists. 

Reminding himself that he had nothing to be ashamed of; he ran his hands over his lithe body as though trying to rid himself of the filth that had seemed to cling to his skin in the servant’s presence. If anything, standing nude before his own father was more awkward than stripping down before something inhuman. Still refusing to face Sebastian, he brought his arms over his head, hands grasped together as first his right pulled his left, then his left pulled his right. He stretched his neck and arched his back as well; the subtle pops and cracks his body made helped with the tension it had held onto since his father had mentioned the basement. 

“Stop making a spectacle of yourself and put this on,” Vincent growled, throwing the aged cloth at his son. Ciel caught it, considered its weight in both hands, then draped it over his left shoulder, and tied a quick knot on his right hip. 

Once the blade was sharpened to his satisfaction, his father put down the stone and took the chalice in hand. “Damn it, Ciel, that is a two-thousand year old artifact. It _is_ the actual Shroud of Turin, please show the garment in which Christ was entombed some respect.”

The young heir rolled his eyes, blowing breath from his cheeks exasperatedly, “The actual Shroud is at my _alma mater_ , father. And not that it matters,” he continued with a shrug, “but the shroud was carbon dated as only being less than seven hundred and sixty years old.”

“No, that one was a replica. The one you are currently sullying by wearing as a toga is older than the Holy Scriptures you studied,” Vincent corrected, annoyed by his son’s persistence to prove him wrong. “Now, this is where it gets somewhat distressing. It’s also the reason I wanted this done before your mother got home; she would be in absolute hysterics having to witness this. You see the _Servant’s Snag_ carved into the floor beneath the suspended cage?” 

Ciel nodded, taking in the familiar sight of the pentagram trapped within a circle, no more than a quarter inch deep. His father spoke once more when he noticed his son’s attention had returned to him, “You will need to fill the shallow depression of the carving.”

“With?” Ciel snapped.

“Your blood,” purred Sebastian. Ciel spun around to glare at the servant and was met with the sensual licking of lips and the capturing of the bottom one by sharp, inhuman teeth. 

“He’s not wrong.” Vincent agreed. 

“But Father, that’s impossible. The diameter alone must be at least four feet,” Ciel sputtered, his face one of utmost incredulity. 

“That’s why you will need to bleed into this cup. It will hurt, Ciel; but it needs to be filled. You will then feed part of it to Sebastian, who may or may not take it this time as he sometimes chooses to drink from the source instead.” The Senior Phantomhive did nothing to conceal his aversion of the servant’s fiendish tendencies, “The remaining blood will be poured into the crevice, and as it was carved on a slant, you need only pour here,” he explained, indicating the spot to his son. “Once it has spread, and the flames have subsided, you needn’t worry about anything else but adding your signature to the long list of Phantomhives before you.”

Ciel swallowed, happy for once to have been kept in the dark about this ritual; it was definitely something that would have caused him to lose sleep; on the other hand, had he known what it entailed, he might never have returned to Phantomhive Estate. “Fine, give me the athame,” he demanded, holding his hand out to his father as he examined his wrist, looking for the best place to cut. He would likely need to slit both, and his wrists were already screaming in protest. 

“No, it must be done by him,” his father said, walking past his son and handing the blade to Sebastian. 

The demon examined the blade he’d been given, the silvery steel glinting in the low light as scarlet traced the finely sharpened edge. He could smell the traces of old blood that stained the dagger, unseen to human eyes. He hummed his approval, holding the hilt in a lazy, familiar grip, long, pale fingers lax around the smooth bone handle, contrasting with the dark charcoal staining his lengthy fingernails. His gaze slid languidly from his perusal of the blade, his old friend, comrade with a lust for blood to rival his own, and to Ciel’s half covered form. So lovely a sight, better still it would be with crimson rivulets rolling over the supple milky skin, to be split and broken beneath his old friend’s kiss. And his own, to taste, to bind, bittersweet and honeyed on his tongue.

He licked his lips, tongue gliding predatorily over the top row of inhuman serrated teeth within his human mouth. “Come closer little butterfly, I’ll be gentle, I _promise_ ,” his voice was low, husky and sultry, seductive as he felt his own blood stirring, surging with heat, excited and aroused by the prospect, skin itching to touch, to taint. Ciel wasn’t that tiny little boy child that Sebastian had watched from afar anymore and the anticipation was coming to a head now. The sweet young master who’d grown into this cynical, jaded, beautiful little creature, whose soul was pure and yet mired in discontent, not made for the filth of this world, but born into it regardless; he would be a fine meal in the end, but this was only the beginning, wasn’t it? No matter, he’d always enjoyed playing with his food. 

Ciel obeyed the servant, not out of desire or obligation, but more out of wanting to just get the ordeal over with. He entered the circle that held the pentagram and approached the cage, arms outstretched, palms up, hands open. As his arms penetrated the spaces between the bars, he turned his head to the side, shut his eyes and pulled a breath through his nose, “Do what needs to be done.”

Cold, smooth fingers wrapped around Ciel's right wrist in a surprisingly tender grip, a sharp thumbnail tracing the blue vein winding beneath the milky, unblemished flesh almost ticklishly. "Such soft skin... So warm for such a blue butterfly. Are you afraid of pain; is that why you shy away?" the demon said in a silky drawl and leaned in as closely to the bars as he could, subsequently using the grip on the young man's wrist to draw him in. His whispered huskily, too soft for any ears but Ciel's and his own, so close, the young man would feel the coolness of his breath, "I can make it ecstasy if you only say the word my _Little Lord_."

The strength behind Sebastian’s grip as he pulled Ciel closer to him didn’t surprise the young heir as much as the difficulty he was having in denying that he did indeed want the ritual not only to be less painful, but to be rapturous. He hissed, arousal coursing through his body and fully intending on pleading with the demon to have his way with him, but the feeling of coolness upon his forehead as it rested on the bars helped him clear his mind long enough to glare at Sebastian. He wouldn't turn away any longer, would force himself to fully experience the transfer of the bond. 

“Go fuck yourself,” he tried saying in a steady voice, but the ferocity of his tone sounded false even to his own ears. He knew the blush upon his face was giving him and his desire away and he hoped that at the very least, his father had bought the act.

"Where would the sport in that be?" the demon chuckled breathily, loud enough to be heard before he tilted his head, drawing the young man's wrist to his lips, whispering coolly over the flesh, "I've a feeling you'd be sweeter company." His chilled tongue flicked over Ciel's pulse and a purr of approval sounded from Sebastian's throat. He could smell the young lord's arousal, could taste it on his skin. The words his young master spoke were not the ones he meant and the demon knew it beyond a shadow a doubt. Such a stubborn boy; it was going to be such a delight to get the truth from those lips.

Moments later, rather than the kiss of the blade's edge, the needle fine fangs in the demon's mouth broke the young man's flesh, a sharp sting followed by a wash of euphoria as Sebastian's tongue soothed over the wounds. A feral hum of appreciation echoed in the demon's chest as the bittersweet flavour of Ciel's blood coated his mouth, like dark chocolate and cherry whiskey, sinful and addictive.

Ciel heard the crunch of his skin under the demon’s teeth before he felt them pierce his trembling wrist. He could feel the area around the broken skin throb as copious amounts of his blood left his body and shot into the mouth that somehow managed to grin suggestively as it drained him of his life. Grinding his teeth, Ciel was unsure if what he was feeling was pleasure or pain so intense, it mimicked pleasure. He scarcely suppressed a moan and resisted the temptation to even blink, wanting very badly to be a voyeur to his own possible demise. 

Vincent moved into his periphery and offered the chalice to his free hand, which he took weakly and positioned inside the cage to catch whatever blood trickled down the demon’s chin.

Sebastian hummed, feline slitted wine coloured eyes glowed, eerily reflecting the dim light as he looked at the young man's flushed face. He caught his exquisite gaze, watched the thick dark lashes tremble with the effort to remain open, the rose stained lips parted and pouting just so as swift breaths passed between them. He pressed his teeth into the wounds again, stimulating a fresh gush of that succulent sanguine essence and finally pulled away, licking his lips greedily. 

He let the dagger clatter to the floor without hesitation and used the freed limb to take the chalice from Ciel's shaky grasp while he released the hold of his other only to capture the Phantomhive heir's left and waste little time in raking his teeth over the flesh there with vicious tenderness, pilfering another mouthful of the warm liquid life, licking his lips clean slowly as to savour the taste as he held both the young man's wounded wrists steady over the undeserving mouth of the cup. Such a waste...

Ciel watched the crimson liquid spilling out of him as though someone, _something_ had uncorked him like an aged bottle of Chateau Margaux and was pouring him out for consumption. Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he knew there was something else he had to do other than being drained; but the light-headedness that accompanied the loss of blood made thinking a difficult and undesirable thing to do. 

Who was yelling? Surely it wasn’t him. His lips were pouted and he could feel the top one pushing against the bottom one; but the feeling was fading fast as numbness and cold were setting in. It wasn’t Sebastian either, his mouth was curled halfway between a cruel, seductive smirk and an amused grin, too occupied to be screaming. His father, perhaps? Yes, even though the voice sounded miles away, it was distinctively Vincent’s. Unable to look away from the half-clad, caged servant, Ciel frowned in concentration, trying to make out his father’s words: _chalice_ , _stop_ , _killing him_ , _fire_...

What about the fire? His father had definitely said fire. Or was it flames, he couldn’t be sure anymore...

No, they were definitely flames, because with every bit of blood Sebastian took, with every drop that filled the chalice, a burning, consuming sensation replaced what was taken. So far it had spread from his wrists, to his elbows and shoulders and was making its way into his chest. 

The young master’s knees shook from the effort of holding himself up, and when he grasped the chalice with an unsteady hand, it slightly overflowed the mouth of the cup, onto the surface of the cage near the demon’s bare feet. Holding onto one of many bars that trapped Sebastian, Ciel stretched, reaching for the area his father had indicated, a trail of blood flowing from his open wound over the radial arms of the pentagram, as he tipped the chalice over the carved area.

His blue eyes made out the course of the liquid as it permeated the necessary spaces, like a shadow chasing the sun. With the circumference filled, the blood made its way centripetally, seeking any part that had been left untouched by his essence. Once complete, blue flames erupted from the circle, trapping him and the servant in within its midst. He backed against the cage, surprised by the sudden surge of the blaze that lit the room like an electric circuit.

Legs weakening, almost ready to give out, he barely managed to turn to face Sebastian imploringly, beseechingly, before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he sagged against the cage... falling… sinking.

***

Chapter 1 Blooper Reel

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Three*

_(Vincent's bald cap is askew and both Sebastian and Ciel say absolutely nothing until it actually falls off entirely)_

**Sebastian** _(to Ciel)_ : You owe me ten bucks.

**Ciel _(pulling out his wallet)_ :** Damn, I was sure he was housing Lord Voldemort under there.

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Six*

_(Ciel and his father made their way to the basement, and it frustrated the young heir to no end that despite the luxury and opulence of the estate, the basement was decrepit, damp and cold owing to the fact that it was the only original section of the estate left. The stone stairs were uneven and as he held onto the moist wall to secure himself, the torches below lit at once.)_

**Everyone:** Surprise! 

**Ciel:** What the actual fuck? 

Everyone: Happy Birthday! You’re finally legal!

**Rachel _(with the birthday cake)_ :** Blow out your candles and make a wish.

**Lizzie _(nudging Soma and Agni)_ :** Bet he wishes he was blowing something else.

**Soma:** Like bubbles?

_Agni shakes his head and Lizzie looks astonished while Soma and Ciel are oblivious.)_

**Sebastian _(smirking and singing under his breath)_ :** Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday to me...

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Eight*

_(Seb's changed the contract to lines from Dr. Suess’ "Green Eggs and Ham". Ciel looks so confused reading them that Sebastian has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing while Vincent becomes increasingly impatient.)_

_1\. I will not eat them in a boat..._  
2\. I will not eat them with a goat...  
3\. I will not eat them here or there; I will not eat them anywhere... 

**Ciel:** Is this a joke?

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Ten*

_(Seb shifts into a doppelganger of Vincent, only with a comb over and sweater vest. Proceeds to mock him silently behind his back while he lectures Ciel.)_

**Ciel _(with extreme difficulty, not laughing)_ :** I don’t see why this has to be done right this moment, Vincent. I’m tired, and I need time to consider…

**Vincent _(seething and checking to be sure his bald cap is in place)_ :** No. You had your time to consider, son. You took seven years to consider 

_(Sebastian mimics the movement, but his bald cap sticks to his hand and falls off his head and he proceeds to silently mouth along with Vincent’s lecture while trying to shake it off his hand)_

_(Ciel is unable to control himself any longer and bursts out laughing)_

**Vincent:** This is no laughing matter Ciel! Control yourself. _(finally looking over his shoulder when Sebastian’s bald cap finally gives and hits him in the back of the head, dislodging his own bald cap)_ Oh for the love of…

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Eleven*

**Vincent:** You’re a servant, not some whore sent to seduce my son. You agreed to the third clause added to the contract and you won’t be warned again demon, so make yourself decent.

**Sebastian _(snorts rudely)_ :** Killjoy.

**Vincent:** Douche.

**Sebastian:** Bastard son of a paltry slut.

**Vincent:** Cocksucker.

**Sebastian _(deadpan)_ :** Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries.

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive basement) Take Thirteen*

**Vincent:** Damn it, Ciel, that is a two-thousand year old artifact. It is the actual Shroud of Turin, please show the garment in which Christ was entombed some respect.

_(Sebastian snatches Christ’s shroud from Ciel’s body and proceeds to towel whip both Ciel, whom is naked, and Vincent with it while they shriek like little girls)_

_Cut!_

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive Basement) Take Fourteen*

_*It’s taken Ciel several takes and nearly a month to finish pouring the blood - he keeps dropping it and wasting everything. They need to give him a few days before re-shooting for his blood supply to even out.... In the end, they end up using someone else's plasma. Because Seb keeps gagging every time he's trying to drink the lukewarm donated blood, they have to have a spit cup next to him.*_

**Seb _(at Vincent)_ :** What the hell is that? It's tastes like Satan's asscrack.

**Vincent:** You've tasted Satan's asscrack?

**Ciel:** I'm not kissing you anymore.

**Vincent:** Anymore? Just what the hell is going on here?

**Seb:** It was at a dark period in my life. _(Looks at Ciel)_ You didn't seem to mind kissing me after I had my tongue in yours...

**Ciel _(from the corner of his mouth, nodding towards Vincent)_ :** Shut up.

**Seb:** Why? You're legal now. He's gonna know when you start showing anyways.

**Vincent and Ciel:** Showing?

**Seb:** Surprise! You're gonna be a great mom babe.

_(Vincent feigns a heart attack.)_

**Seb:** That was easier than what was scripted

**Ciel:** Fucking great- we get a day off now

**Seb:** Soooo... Wanna fuck?

**Ciel:** As long as you're wearing protection

**Seb:** Riiiiggggghhhhhtttt.

**Vincent:** Why has nobody called 911 yet?!?!?

**Seb and Ciel:** Shut up. You're killing the mood.

 

*Scene One “Years” (Phantomhive Basement) Take Fifteen*

_(Vincent is actually having a heartattack…)_

**Seb:** Bring out your dead.

**Vincent:** I'm not dead

**Ciel _(dragging Vincent's body towards Seb's cage)_ :** Shut up, you may as well be. _(To Seb)_ Here's a fresh one, still warm even.

**Vincent:** I'm not deaddddd.

**Seb _(cocking a brow)_ :** He says he's not dead.

**Ciel:** He will be. Just take him, would you. I need to get back to my quest for the holy grail.

_Cut!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	2. Invoked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Always read the fine print.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support and lovely comments and kudos! Here's the second installment.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Blue by A Perfect Circle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlysZAUNyFg&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=178)  
> Ciel~  Turn Off the Lights by Panic! At the Disco 

Bound now to the young master and without Ciel’s conscious order to remain in his cage, the markings faded and Sebastian was free of his bars, much to Vincent’s chagrin. The elder Phantomhive could do nothing to deter the demon now that he no longer had the right to order him; he’d passed on the title of master and his son was not as alike him as he’d hoped him to be. The demon was the one that tended to the Phantomhive heir, sealed his wounds and cleansed his skin, clothed him in a soft linen dressing gown and tucked him into his bed where Sebastian had spent many a night watching him sleep through raven’s eyes. It was better now that he could touch him and not only watch from afar. He had dressed himself as well, dark slacks and matching form-fitting long-sleeved turtleneck, simple, but attractive, encasing his torso splendidly. He stood aside his young master, unmoving, marble like in his silent stillness, guarding, drinking in the sight of him, a pretty, sleeping butterfly. So lovely in its rest, still as death, but for the subtle rise and fall of breath and smelling of bittersweet life he found his mouth missing in the absence of its flavour.

Slowly, reverent, but sure soot lacquered fingertips reached out to brush spider silk fine strands of navy highlighted hair from Ciel’s serene sleeping face and tuck them back behind the delicate shell of a silver and sapphire pierced ear. And again to pass over the soft, smoothness of unblemished flesh, perfect, innocent, untainted, _virginal_... His appetite to mar, stain, and debauch the young master was potent and the intensity of the desire was such delicious torture in his imposed abstinence. “Don’t keep me waiting too long little butterfly, we’ve much to talk about,” he murmured quietly, an almost fondness lurking in the depths of humanized auburn eyes.

Ciel was still falling, though he knew it was impossible; knew because he was familiar with skydiving. Time dilates when you’re free-falling, fourteen seconds stretching endlessly over a series of moments in quick succession. This knowledge did nothing to help – it was all still rushing air and blue, soft cerulean that extended over the horizon. 

But he hadn’t jumped from a plane. This falling was different, mostly because this time he watched as the heavens fell away from him rather than watching his body ready itself for impact if his parachute didn’t open. No parachute this time either, no safety, nothing to hold on to, just... blue... and a speck of dark in the distance that moved at a bewildering speed.

As he fell, the moisture that had accumulated on his hairline dried and his hair whipped softly above him, caressing his face, sometimes obscuring his vision until all he could see were the brilliant navy strands reflecting off the sun. The air seemed to wrap itself adoringly, tenderly around his arms, tapering the blood loss and eventually sealing the wounds. Soon enough, any evidence of the gouging and tearing of his flesh was gone, leaving behind dried blood that mimicked the most alluring pattern of intricate plumage.

With the evidence of physical damage gone, he began to worry about hitting solid ground. Turning his head lazily to the side, he was startled by a resplendent creature, a raven, fluttering by his side, somehow able to keep up with the speed of his descent. Ciel’s own weak gaze was confused as it immersed itself within the pits of the auburn-tinted one. How did a raven’s eyes look at the same time feline and human? He tried to reach out, wanted to stroke the feathers that looked like liquid in the sun, but the weight of gravity made it impossible to move with any precision. As though sensing distress, the raven perched itself on his clothed chest, digging talons into his nightshirt.

The azure that surrounded the falling boy darkened, became more fluid and more alive than the sky. Water. He would plunge into it, back first, and it would break him at this speed. Bleeding out was preferable to being crushed. No time to think, just to close his eyes, brace and tense his body for impact; but it never came. The raven hovered a foot from his chest, somehow coinciding with his deceleration and it seemed to clutch invisible threads that held and arched the falling body before it collided with the water.

Once wet and fully absorbed in the deep blue, the water licked at his face, his neck and his wounds. As he sank, he watched the plumage turn into tendrils of red that danced towards the surface spreading beautifully the way dark tea wrapped in silk would create art in the cup when immersed in boiling water.

He sank unaffected for some time before his body craved oxygen, demanded it. The sensation spread like wildfire through his throat, his lungs and into every artery that mapped his body. Flames devoured his insides, burning him thoroughly, prompting recollections of the blue flames responsible for his fall. He flailed, kicked out and spun himself with difficulty to make for the surface. He kept burning despite the liquid that surrounded him, opening and closing his mouth, gasping for air, only to have water fill the space instead. As he finally broke the surface, he fought for breath between coughing and wheezing and two words found themselves on his lips; words that he had failed to remember in all his years of training, forgot them because they were foreign in both concept and because they did not belong together; the Aramaic for _lover_ and _redemption_.

Sebastian grazed his knuckles along the back of Ciel’s burning forehead, feeling the rippling vibration of unholy discord beneath the damp skin. Ciel was accepting the transfer; he could feel the threaded tendrils of the contract tugging at him, forcing him into another sort of shackling, but it was oddly pleasant this time. Cool and smooth, soft like petals on still water, blue velvet, dappled with pin-dropped starlight, lovely, inviting, dark but filled with light. It was an almost euphoric sensation, unnatural in this setting. For all the times the contract had been transferred, it had felt like being crushed, contained and molded into a too small confined space, binding his wings, cramped and caged. But with Ciel, it tasted of freedom and felt like heaven under his skin; the boy had not even signed his signature, but still he had accepted naturally, had drawn Sebastian into him and claimed him without hesitation. How long had it been since he’d bathed in divinity? Where did it come from in the young master? His butterfly grew more unique by the breath.

The words that broke from the youngest Phantomhive’s lips, between ragged, parched wheezes and harsh panting coughs were not lost on the demon. The language of Christ, the word choice both unexpected and beautiful. He knew the words for their meaning, but had never heard them spoken in his direction, especially from a master. Interesting that those words be the first on Ciel’s lips when he surfaced into consciousness. And there it was in his right eye, the pigment discoloured, offset by the symbols of their binding and the matching mark twisted and burned on the back of the demon’s hand, new lines being added under the voicing of those words. Servant became lover, and the promise of a Phantomhive soul became redemption as Ciel’s order was laid into his flesh. Odd requests from a master, but intriguing for certain. He was curious to know how these new terms would affect the contract, how he would come to abide them, and kept them to himself as the young man blinked confusion from his now mismatched eyes. 

“There you are butterfly, did you sleep well?” he murmured instead, chilled fingertips warming against the young man’s flushed cheek as he gazed down upon him. He’d never belonged to a master quite like this one, and found, he was eager to claim and be claimed by the youngest Phantomhive. 

When a chill swept across his face, Ciel sat bolt upright in his mahogany four-poster bed. Most the of the Phantomhive signature black and blue drapes had been drawn to cast him in such darkness that he couldn’t be sure what time of day it was or even how much time had elapsed since the transfer of the bond had occurred. His arms showed absolutely no sign of having bled out; there were no stitches, nor bandages, or even scars. He searched for the disembodied voice, knowing it belonged to the servant, that the hand which had smoothed his skin also belonged to the long fingers with darkened tips; but nobody was by his side. “What are you doing watching me sleep? Stop hiding; you’re creeping me out.”

He heard the rustling of drapes and found Sebastian immediately to his left, antiquated copper candlestick holder in his right hand, illuminating his bewitching face. The dancing of the flame caught the wine colour of his eyes and cast an abnormally large shadow with wings upon the wall. 

Ciel moved away, taken aback by the sudden closeness, and blinked quickly and reflexively as though trying to dislodge something from his right eye. It felt irritated, almost like having dust in it, or maybe more like when he had slept with coloured contacts that one year for Halloween… Whatever it was, he was sure it had something to do with the transfer, and he couldn’t help but be resentful towards Sebastian, only because Vincent was not around to be on the receiving end of his annoyance and frustration as he rubbed his eye savagely. “And why are you here? Why aren’t you in your cage?” 

“You don’t remember my lord? You released me and as per my duties, I’ve cared for you and healed your injuries,” the demon answered, a very pink and human seeming tongue wetting his lips slowly as he loomed over the youth, “Would you like your tea now or do you rather I return to my confinement?” He watched Ciel rubbing at his eye, obviously unused to the irritation of the contract freshly carved there and perhaps still unaware of it. He reached out to brush a thumb beneath it and over the back of the young man’s fisted hand, soothing the sting away without the express order.

The demon’s flesh on his own turned the young master’s spine to ice before it eased any of the painful tingling in his eye. Before Sebastian could remove his hand, Ciel caught it in his own and turned it over so that he could see the contract still amending itself there. “Don’t go, I remember next to nothing,” his voice broke as he let his hair fall over his eye. “I’m famished for both sustenance and information. Even if I’ve replaced Vincent as your master, I’ve been given none of the details and it seems quite the departure from the contract for you to care and heal my injuries when it merely states that you are to keep me alive.”

Sebastian turned an enigmatic smile at the young man, pleased by the begging tone with which his master spoke. Interesting to see Ciel showing his vulnerability. He was so stubborn so often, pretending to be unafraid, confident, dominant when beneath the bravado, he was begging to succumb, to be taken, sullied most deliciously. "As you wish young master, breakfast this morning is buttermilk cranberry scones with warm brie and apricot preserves paired with a white Darjeeling, imported directly from West Bengal," the servant said as he slipped away from Ciel to retrieve the requested breakfast, wheeling the tray over and serving the young master familiarly before he spoke further.

"I'll admit that it is outside the original bounds of the contract for me to act on my own interests or affections in regards to your welfare, but you've made some amendments of your own, given freedoms I was not previously granted by your predecessors. I must confess, I have my own motivations at heart, but that's no reason to abstain from showing my fondness for my favourite Phantomhive," he said, humour echoing in the auburn of his eyes as he stood straight and poised next to the bed, watching his master begin his breakfast.

Breakfast already? That meant nearly twenty-four hours had gone by since the basement, no wonder it felt like his stomach was eating itself; if it hadn't been so long, he might have outright rejected the food. Surely _this_ was not part of any agreement they had. He didn't have much experience with the family _pet_ ... no, he wouldn't think of Sebastian that way, not when he looked so... 

He shook his head, blushing in spite of himself at the thought. He tucked into his meal, trying to remember if he had ever seen the servant prepare food or perform any duties outside those Sebastian had been trapped into doing. He couldn’t recall any.

Yet, as he tasted the scone, dipping it in the delicious tea, he knew the previous master’s’ failure to utilize Sebastian in this fashion was their loss. The demon clearly missed nothing - his skill in the kitchen paired with his food choices was impeccable. Still, it didn’t prevent him from feeling paranoid as to whether the demon had rummaged through his head to have known that he had craved brie the moment he woke or how he expertly anticipated his needs before even Ciel knew they were needs. He licked the remaining cheese off the knife, refusing to waste any of it as he replayed Sebastian's words over in his mind. Shock crossed his soft features and when his irritation spiked, he impulsively shot the knife at the servant's face. "Wait, which amendments? Which freedoms? And how are they even binding given my ... uh... condition at the time?"

Sebastian raised one finely shaped, dark brow at the brandished cutlery and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. "Butterfly, words aren't necessary to amend a contract made in blood, every desire is embedded in the essence, but if you need words, I believe the ones you used were, _redemption_ and _lover_ ," he replied, purring the Aramaic with perfect accuracy, as if he'd been speaking it for centuries and so he had. "Those are heavy words in the language of Christ to be imbued in a contract with me my lord, forgive me if I took them literally."

Ciel gaped at the demon and pushed his tray aside. He felt toyed with, teased and wasn’t enjoying it in the least. He considered feigning ignorance of the Aramaic words, but decided to overlook them completely, partly hoping Sebastian might not have taken them too seriously considering Ciel had been in a near-lifeless state when he had supposedly spoken them. He fumed at the other smaller, more curious, intrigued part of his subconscious that insisted that the word _lover_ in particular, might be one of those instances where his mind knew his heart’s desires before he himself was aware of them. No! He wouldn’t shackle himself to the demon anymore than he already was. Their union was one of necessity, dynasty, not longing, or lust. He crossed his arms petulantly over his chest and pressed Sebastian to answer the question to which he had neglected to respond, “And which freedoms have I _supposedly_ granted you?”

"Why the freedom to feel, to change, my lord. I'd been forced numb so long little butterfly, you've no idea the pleasure you've allowed me," Sebastian returned graciously, though there was a sly undercurrent to the words, clearly more meaning than what was being said. Ciel's amendments had allowed him to adapt, made loopholes in the contract where before there had been none. Now as long as the feeling was genuine, he would be able to act upon it and the culmination of such acts, the trust he planned to garner from his master, would eventually come to a natural end in which he would be free of his captivity altogether. He could almost taste it with how close his freedom was now. After how many centuries, how many miserable generations had he been waiting for an occasion such as this and he should have known it would be Ciel; he'd always had a fondness for the boy.

Ciel couldn't help but feel that he hadn't been given a straight answer from Sebastian, but he let it go for the time being, moving on to a more pressing matter. "Vincent said I would have to amend our contract to impose a one year deadline on our... partnership. I don't intend on devoting my life to exorcising your kind from the feeble-minded idiots who weakly succumb to them. Must we do anything specific for that addendum or is it already done since it is _my desire_ as you pointed out."

“It is to your specifications young master. One year of my servitude, then we’ll both be free to do as we please,” Sebastian affirmed pleasantly, a feral flicker in the russet depths as the demon’s pupils retracted and redilated predatorily. He turned away to the tray once again, raven locks obscuring his eyes from view as he fingered through the morning’s post. Ciel had been home only a handful of days and already he’d received mail. One from his cousin and former classmate Elizabeth Midford, another from a colleague in Rome, a Soma Kadar that was vaguely familiar in the demon’s second-hand memories, and the last, straight from the holy pinnacle itself, sealed with the Vatican’s stamp pressed in blue wax, blessed and stinking of it. His lips curled into a nasty grin as he plucked it from the pile, ignoring the oily feel it left on his fingertips while he offered it to Ciel.

“Already, they send for you my lord. No rest for the wicked it seems,” ambiguous of just which party was the wicked he referred to. He was happy enough for their haste, though he didn’t care for their methods; it’d been such a long time since he’d been free of his bars and he only had a year to cultivate CIel’s soul and convince the young lord to offer it to him of his own accord.He could be as CIel had amended; he could be the lord’s lover. How bittersweet their end would be…

Ciel took the missive from the demon and rose from the bed to stretch, “Honestly, I don’t see why we can’t just say it was delayed by the post...” Holding it between dried lips, he unbuttoned his dressing gown and let it fall to the floor; after such an extended time in bed, it felt as though he had been drowning in dead cells. His nudity caused him little disquiet now that Sebastian had seen him at his most vulnerable; besides, what was a little bit of skin between master and servant, or _between lovers_ , he smirked. Let him get an eyeful; the bastard had been resolutely vague, so too would Ciel be purposefully coquettish to test if he had a fragment of the effect on Sebastian as the raven-haired demon had on him.

Feeling his way in the room, and not at all confident that he would able to read a single word in its near obscurity, he drew back the drapes that hid the large stained rose window, bathing both his body and the room in a fiery halo. Instinctively, Ciel brought his arm up to shield his eyes from the light, but still welcomed the ray’s resplendence as it cast a glossy gold sheen over his skin. Its warmth was nearly as soothing as the demon’s cool touch.

He leaned against the nearby desk and let his eyes roam over the envelope, and while there was no return address, the wax seal that secured the letter was unmistakable. He cursed under his breath and using an intricate pewter opener, he extracted a singular square piece of paper that had been folded in half. He frowned, having expected something more substantial, but all it held was a name and an address: Mickey McQueen, 229 Cambridge Heath Road, London, England.

“Gather my things and bring them to the ensuite, Sebastian. While I bathe, you can educate me on how you plan on making yourself useful.”

“Yes, my lord,” came Sebastian’s prompt reply, like smoke on the tongue, an almost mocking lilt beneath the otherwise silky tone. He bowed gracefully like real servants do and smirked to himself as he looked through his bangs at the smooth skin on display, running his tongue along his teeth in a wholly predatory gesture. The master was a coy little thing, taunting him this way. It was too soon to be acting on lust, though Ciel might accept him for the sheer rebellion of it all, but he wanted something more than that. He wanted his purity.

He abruptly turned on his heel as he repressed the human nature of his body to react most shamefully. How long had it been since he’d last participated in such carnal acts, longer than he’d been starving for certain. There would be time for it later once the foundations had been laid; he wanted things to move swiftly, but he did not want to rush. The victory would be worth the wait. 

He packed with assured efficiency, automatically choosing the most appropriate apparel for his young master, a healthy balance of practical, attractive, and mature, along with a helpful text or two from Ciel’s father’s collection of family journals. Once finished he returned to Ciel’s side, sleeves rolled to his elbows with a bundle of clothing which he set on the little dressing table before he knelt at the side of the tub.

He idly took over pouring water over the young man’s shoulders to wash his back. “You really were raised in the dark weren’t you butterfly? Who better to reap demons than a demon itself? I can tear them from their hosts, force their names from them, their secrets and I can destroy them, wipe them clean of this existence. You think the Phantomhives are simply excellent exorcists? They’re exterminators. The worth of a Phantomhive soul to one of my kin is priceless. And I with my role as pet, servant, weapon and shield, traitor that I am have and will be allowed such a soul in the end. I’ve no love lost for the murders of my brethren, though they taste far blander than any human, I only grow stronger in devouring them and insodoing disrespect the unholy commandements. A forced mutiny I’ve found more beneficial than is worth fighting against. There are amicable ways to gain my freedom,” He explained idly, eyes unconsciously following the tendrils of soap over Ciel’s skin, hands whispering in their wake, washing the suds away again. Such exquisite skin, so warm beneath his cool fingertips.

Ciel luxuriated in being pampered this way, something he had not experienced since before leaving for school. Despite having asked for answers, the young master had been somewhat put out when the demon had broken the silence with his purr of a voice, no matter how pleasing it had become in less than a day. And the more he spoke of his exploits, the greater the number of questions Ciel compiled. 

Only when the words stopped spilling from the sensual mouth, had Ciel become cognizant of the fact that silence was in fact not preferable to the rousing tone of the servant. “Yes, it seems that being raised in the dark might be a slight understatement at this point, and that it was definitely intentional, though I’m not sure why.” He frowned, trying to connect seemingly unconnected fragments from his past. “You would obviously have been privy to Vincent’s training, and those that came before him. They stayed relatively close; you don’t need a layover when you attend the Institute in New Orleans after all. On the other hand, I was shipped across the ocean for god knows what reason and I’m suspicious enough to wonder what Vincent’s motives were...” 

Somewhat exasperated, he held his breath and went under, emerging from the water with his hair plastered to his face waiting for Sebastian to wash it. “And another thing, if you take it upon yourself to reap and tear the demons from their hosts, why is my assistance required at all? For which urgent reason was I summoned here by my father to take over a contract he did very little to fulfill.”

"That young master I do not have the answer to, though should I have to hazard a guess, I would say he's not going to be of this existence much longer. Death has long since clung to Phantomhive, cloying and unmistakeable. You'll come to know that all your predecessors expired young, fragile as you all appear to be. As for why your supervision is integral, well, without your order, I could stray, devour the host just as well let my kin go free. You're clever butterfly, but not so clever as to be able to lie to your righteous employers, I'm afraid," Sebastian returned as he lathered a generous amount of vaguely Orchid scented shampoo into the young lord's hair, a low humming echoing in his chest as he massaged Ciel's scalp for drawn moments.

Ciel closed his eyes as the shampoo ran down his face, his neck and his back. This was definitely something he could get used to; the morbid news about his father’s (and by extension his own) impending death, not so much. He should have expected this kind of callousness from a demon; he doubted very much that Sebastian had ever held anything dear or had any attachment other than the contractual sort. And yet, since having bled for the contract, he felt a certain amount of possessiveness towards the servant, and an almost equal amount of need to be possessed. It pained him somewhat, because he knew, _felt_ , that this need would lead to something more profound down the road, but that those feelings would never be returned. They had taught him in school that the unholy were incapable of any emotion other than greed, vengeance and self-interest.

“I am well aware of the Phantomhive lifespan,” he spat a little more ferociously than he’d intended, “Why do you think I don’t want to spend what little time I have left doing this?” He dumped water on his head twice and got to his feet, holding a hand out for a towel.

“Certainly understandable, my lord. If you don’t mind satisfying my curiosity, what would you rather be doing?” the demon asked, tone the same as it’d been, uninterested though there was more honesty behind the auburn of his eyes. He stood up proper and unrolled a large, overly plush towel, letting Ciel step into it of his own accord before he wrapped it around him fully and had the young man hold it while Sebastian took another to dry his wet hair with tender firmness, almost affectionate in the gesture. He was feeling rather generous this morning and the young master was far too enjoyable to tease.

He was curious and just fond enough to take his new role as lover seriously. He hadn’t played such a role in centuries and he couldn’t deny it had intrigued him. He revelled in it. What must it be like to be Ciel, to want desperately a heart’s desire that was the very essence of sacrilege? The war he must be waging against himself thrilled the demon unexpectedly and he very much wanted to see what the outcome would be.

Reveling in the steam that twisted tendrils around the parts of his body not yet covered by the plush towel, Ciel selfishly let himself be handled by the demon. He would take whatever mislead affections Sebastian was willing to give. Once sufficiently towel-dried, he was lead to a vanity bench where the demon ran his fingers through his tangled hair, easing the knots out and parting his hair as per his master’s preference before he set to drying it. 

In the meanwhile, Ciel considered Sebastian’s curious question, wondering how to answer; if he were honest, he would tell Sebastian that he would rather be doing anything than running errands for the Vatican. He resented being their lapdog, resented having inherited the Phantomhive legacy, though not nearly as much as he resented being torn away from what he saw as his true life’s purpose. 

He’d travelled the world on his father’s dime in search of relics (sacrilegious, or otherwise), plundering temples, churches, museums and graves. He wasn’t stealing them as much as he was saving them; these artifacts had come into existence to be used, not to be displayed by the rich or to keep the dead warm in their graves. He fancied himself the embodiment of a male Jezabel, coming into a dysfunctional relationship and seducing away the lover that had gone neglected and underappreciated for far too long. Those who were inattentive and uncaring of the demands of such beloved objects had no right to hold them. He did though. Had every right, because he knew that within these relics were souls trapped in limbo and it was through their use that they would be set free.

“I do mind, Sebastian. What I would rather be doing with my time is something I might be willing to share with you once you’ve earned my trust.” He dared not divulge this information to the demon, fearing that he would cleverly make the connection between the gist of the young heir’s real calling and his utter revulsion of confining Sebastian to his cage, not using him to his full capacity. And since none but himself could be trusted to make proper use of him, he would terminate his contract in the end.

 

***

Ciel got dressed, impressed by the outfit Sebastian had selected: a completely black ensemble comprised of trousers, dress shirt, tie and suspenders. Their textures were soft and comfortable for travel and still appealing on his slight form. While the demon made the necessary preparations for their _business trip_ , he went to his father’s study to bid his farewells, given the ominous nature of Sebastian’s earlier conjecture. He knocked tentatively at the door.

“Come in, Ciel,” Vincent ordered between ragged coughs.

The Phantomhive heir took a breath, filling his lungs and pretending it was courage instead of oxygen before letting himself in. To say the room was opulent was an understatement. Its gothic rib-vault ceilings which rose at least two stories perfectly mimicked (albeit on a smaller scale) those of the churches he had raided in Paris. And despite the present modern era, Vincent had foregone the comfort of electricity in this part of the home, opting instead for floor to ceiling windows to provide light during the day and a dozen elaborate candelabras for the evening. The walls not filled with windows were occupied either by shelves lined with books, old and reeking of mustiness or ornate crucifixes that predated the last millennium. _What a waste_ , thought Ciel, _a room adorned to please God and he doesn’t even exist_.

“Are you going to stand there like Creeping Jesus, or are you going to come finish the transfer by adding your signature to the contract?” Vincent asked, his tone laced with aggravation and pain. His father did not look well, was stooped over his desk, bottle of Cognac out, but no glass. His appearance was not that of a drunken man, but of a dying one. Ciel approached the desk and sat in one of two antique leather chesterfield armchairs before him.

“Damn it son, have the decency to cover that up, will you?” He indicated nodding towards his left eye.

“Why should I?” he asked draping his left arm over the back of the chair. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Vincent? I noticed you’ve lost yours.” Ciel was sure he had never seen his father without his eyepatch, whether it had been to prevent scaring him as a child he wouldn’t ever know; it was irrelevant at this point. 

“You should have some pride, you’ve been given a great responsibility, you’ve inherited…”

“Yes, I know Vincent. I get it,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face petulantly as though amplifying the effect of the contract written on his eye.

Vincent took a nearby quill and handed it to him along with an inkwell filled with a red substance and pointed to the spot needing his signature as the scroll had been laid flat by two substantial paperweights.

“My blood?” he questioned, motioning to the viscous liquid as his father nodded solemnly. Vincent’s sorrowful gaze followed his son’s hand as it dragged along the parchment, directly below where he had inscribed his own signature some thirty years ago. Once the deed was done, his father stood and walked with difficulty to the gold-encrusted safe, scroll in hand. 

Ciel thought of leaving his father before he could finish locking up the document, but was filled with confusion as to how he should feel about this probably being the last time he would see the man alive. He had left home such a long time ago, had never established a strong bond with the family patriarch and yet, could feel it in his bones, knew that the man was planning on lecturing him. Ciel went on the offensive, trying to change the topic before his father could broach it altogether.

“Where’s mother? I’ve been here a day and I’ve yet to see her.” It had initially struck him as odd that it had been Sebastian that had nursed him back to health rather than his mother. He had kept in contact with her, spoke to her once a week from wherever he was; that she wasn’t there bothered him greatly.

His father took a seat again, this time, next to him rather than across the desk. “You’ve been here for four days Ciel, and I’ve sent her away for some time. She’s with your aunt Angelina.”

 _Four days_ , he thought wearily. “Well that’s a shame, I’ve been beckoned to an address in London, already, and I was hoping to visit with her before I left.” Vincent seemed in a fog as his son spoke until he slumped forward and Ciel caught him before his head hit the desk.

“Father, let’s get you to your bed. I’ll call for the doctor.”

“No, Ciel, listen,” he coughed, “There are things I _must_ tell you.”

“It’s really too late for that, Father, you had eighteen years in which you could have told me things…”

“Sebastian’s not to be trusted, Ciel,” his father blurted, looking at him as he held onto his son’s shoulders.

“Neither are you!” He shot back venomously. “Eighteen years, father. Eighteen years you’ve kept me in the dark! Why send me away? I could have learned so much more working by your side, now I’m going into this completely blind!”

“It was to keep you away from him!” Vincent panted, hand clutching at his chest. Ciel made to open his mouth, to ask for clarification, but was silenced by the wheezing breath and small watery eyes of his father. “You’ve always been drawn to sacrilege, Ciel. Had an unnatural obsession with it. Do you remember finding the statuette of the Virgin on this very desk when you were four?” It was vaguely familiar, though he had thought of it more as a dream than reality. He pushed Vincent gently back into the chair and turned inwards to face him as his father continued, “I left it out by accident, you came looking for me and once you took hold of it, it started bleeding tears. It didn’t scare you as it should have, instead it fascinated you. Within days, it went missing and the maid found it in your bedroom. When I confronted you, you said…”

“I needed to make it better,” he whispered. He also remembered finding the maid dead some days later; his father had blamed it on heart failure, even though Ciel had clearly seen the blood that had run from her eyes and stained the pale carpet.

“Do you remember the tantrum you threw when I removed the bleeding Virgin from your possession and had it burned? You refused to speak to anyone for weeks. Holed up in your room, refusing to play, to attend your lessons, to eat unless you were forced and then you got quite sick; that was, until other desecrated items found their way to your room. Crucifixes that had been used in rituals, found hanging upside down on your chamber walls, holy texts with their pages torn to shreds laid across your floor to spell your name and a dozen rosaries, severed and tied end to end to form a pentagram and affixed to your ceiling over your bed.”

Ciel nodded, remembering the instances with less horror than he should. He only remembered that it had pleased him to fix the items and make them whole again. “The pentagram, from the ceiling. I didn’t do that, and still, you sent me away…”

“For your protection, you stupid boy! Don’t you see, he reveled in your melancholy, it made him take notice. Too much notice.” Ciel shifted his gaze to look outside, he could see the Bentley making its way to the main entrance. “Listen to me, I know what you’re planning with Soma and it won’t work. I keep referring to Sebastian as a _him_ , but I’m wrong, Sebastian is an _it_ , not a _him_ … it’s not human Ciel, and as such, it cannot be saved. You won’t save it. It has nothing to save! ”

This was why Vincent had added the third condition to the contract, and while he was unconscious, Ciel had undone his sacrifice. He nodded towards his father, not agreeing with his logic, but not arguing with it either.

He stood and helped the older Phantomhive to his feet, “I must go Father, the Bentley has pulled up, let me help you to your room.”

Vincent shook his head weakly, tears now falling freely from the eye that had been marred by the contract as surely as was his own. “Help me to the chaise lounge,” he said, nearly swallowing the words rather than speaking them. Once settled, Vincent drew out a small box from his jacket pocket and gave it to his son before closing his eyes and taking shallow breaths. Ciel made the sign of the cross on his father’s forehead, not because he believed it made any difference but because his father believed and left the study, box in hand.

He put on the jacket that had been set out for him by the front door and locked it as he left. His father could no longer be saved any more than he thought the demon could be. Ciel knew upon seating himself in the car and covering the covenant he bore in his left eye with the patch his father had gifted him in the box, that Sebastian would appear more sated for having claimed Vincent Phantomhive’s soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 Blooper Reel
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take one*
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel actually falls asleep during dream sequence)_
> 
>  
> 
> _(Crew has been forbidden to wake him up by threat of death)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Ciel _(who starts writhing and moaning)_ :** Harder Sebastian! Faster! Faster! Right there! No, not there! Not there either..
> 
>  **Sebastian _(molesting Ciel in his sleep)_ :** Why don’t you just draw me a damn map then?
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Two*
> 
>  **Ciel: (peeks under the sheets)** Sebastian, why the fuck am I wearing butterfly onesies… _(pats his head feeling the hood)_ complete with antennae?
> 
>  **Sebastian _(smirking and taking discreet photos)_ :** No idea.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Eight*
> 
>  **Ciel _(licking the brie off the knife)_** Wait, which amendments? Which freedoms? And how are they even binding given my ... uh... condition at the time?
> 
>  **Sebastian _(who raises one finely shaped, dark brow and crosses his arms loosely over his chest)_ :** Butterfly, words aren't necessary to amend a contract made in blood, every desire is embedded in the essence, but if you need words, I believe the ones you used were, _blow job_ and _hourly_.
> 
>  **Ciel _(smirks as he hears the chiming of the clock indicating the top of the hour and takes out his dick)_ :** Well? It’s not gonna suck itself, Sebastian.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Ten*
> 
>  **Ciel:** Gather my things and bring them to the ensuite, Sebastian. While I bathe, you can educate me on how you plan on making yourself useful.
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window, leans forward and runs his index finger above his upper lip where an uncanny Hitler moustache has been drawn with a permanent marker)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Sebastian _(replying promptly, a mocking lilt beneath his silky tone)_ :** Yes, mein Fuhrer.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Vincent’s Office) Take Seventeen*
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel supports Vincent’s weight, preventing him from falling forward)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Vincent:** No, Ciel, listen... _(coughs)_... There are things I must tell you.
> 
>  **Ciel:** I already know about the birds and bees.
> 
>  **Sebastian _(speaking from the side of his mouth)_ :** Among other things…
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Two “Invoked” (Vincent’s Office) Take Eighteen*
> 
>  
> 
> _Ciel supports Vincent’s weight, preventing him from falling forward_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Vincent:** No, Ciel, listen, _(he coughs)_. There are things I must tell you.
> 
>  **Ciel:** It’s really too late for that, Father, you had eighteen years in which you could have told me things…
> 
>  **Vincent:** Sebastian’s not to be trusted, Ciel. _(Vincent stares at Ciel waiting for his immediate response)_
> 
>  **Ciel:** Line!
> 
>  **Sebastian _(off-set, whispers to Ciel exaggeratedly)_ :** Go fuck yourself old man. I do what I want.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_


	3. Grapevine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: You can never have too much Windex.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Fire in the Henhouse by Our Lady Peace](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UC-vMrFYh6c&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=115&shuffle=21693)  
> Ciel~ [Butterflies and Hurricanes by Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzCKrwOme2U)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your support as this fic sets up the plot and establishes the characters has really been appreciated! <3
> 
> As a thanks- not only are we updating a day early ... but you might find more than one update this weekend!

Once they’d arrived overseas, Sebastian had taken the luggage to the Phantomhive townhouse there and managed to meet his master at the location the Vatican had specified just as Ciel arrived himself. He could immediately smell the unpleasant aroma of stale souls trapped in the area and he could vaguely smell the sickly sweet scent of reapers come to clean house, though it seemed they had not yet finished, perhaps pulled away for some more important duty. He could hardly care so long as the insufferable gits kept out of his way. 

His gaze narrowed as he looked over the unassuming building and flickered to feline crimson to see the decay for what it was. The area was saturated with it; it was no wonder a possession had occurred here. The desecrated state of the very foundations left the veil thin here and it’s occupants’ spirits and energy vulnerable, feeding into the disreputable melancholy within. Such easy prey for his kin. The rifts in the veil made for easy entrance and the relative buffet would be incentive enough to surface there. Ironic that the shop below was one for flowers; the souls here were practically romancing demons out of hell. It was laughable, but he kept his witty comments to himself, well aware his master (quiet and surly as he’d been since they’d left the main estate) would not find the same humour in it that he did.

He wet his lips and glanced at Ciel’s perplexed expression. He had a harder time hiding the smirk from his lips in response to the young man’s confusion. Ciel seemed confused by their location and was looking over the address again as if there had been some mistake. “Is something wrong my lord?” he asked as if he didn’t know what it was that had Ciel pulling such a face. 

No doubt, Ciel could feel the underlying hum of energy in their location, but was having difficulty relating it to what his human eyes could detect. If he could see as Sebastian did, there would be no confusion. But he was only endearingly mortal, so blind and vulnerable; human eyes were so easily deceived and for a demon like Sebastian, he was grateful. Ciel could not see past Sebastian’s human facade as surely as he could not see the putrid state of the destination, could not smell the decay of undead things in the very structures of the building and that naivety made his butterfly that much more desireable.

Ciel knew something was wrong the moment he’d gotten out of the vehicle. The area reminded him of Stonehenge, where he had once coaxed a Druidic summoning dagger from its long-forgotten hiding place from under the _Friar’s Heel_. Even though the ancient stone structure could be easily accessed by freeway, and was home to birds and wildlife, the moment he’d stood within the circle, it was as though the world outside its perimeter had ceased to exist. No living thing other than humans dared enter its midst, no sound (animal or vehicular) penetrated its circumference and no breeze made it through to circulate the stale air. And that’s what it felt like standing outside McQueen’s Florist, despite the park across the street filled with laughing and playing children and the cars rushing by. 

The young exorcist knew his own senses were nothing compared to that of the servant who stood intimately close to him, but he was capable enough to detect the satisfied little smirk on the demon’s face. Just because their contract had stipulated that the Sebastian was not to lie, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t withhold information. He glared at the attractive façade the demon had chosen, cursing internally at his damned eyepatch for being unable to drink in and fully appreciate how well Sebastian had read his basest desires. He was being played on all accounts so he wasn’t about to rely on the demon to give him the information and he sure as hell wasn’t going to beg for it either. 

Looking back at the summons he’d received earlier that day, he did a search on his phone, inputting the address he was given. He kept his face stoic as he scrolled through a variety of articles that had come up, all directing him to one incident that had occurred under his feet in 1943. The Bethnal Green Tube Station had been a popular refuge during the air raids over London during World War II; that was until someone had tripped going down the stairs, causing a bottleneck in the entrance and a mass hysteria that had resulted in one hundred and seventy-three deaths. 

Ciel nodded to himself; that made sense. Death was a friend to the area and it had no doubt invited the demon kin to feast on some poor soul. “Are you always going to be this helpful, Sebastian? Or must I learn everything on my own?”

The demon chuckled breathily and he cocked his head coyly as he gave his response, “Am I to interpret that as an order to act at my own discretion my lord? If that’s so, might I suggest we start by finding our _gracious host_?” It should be noted that the demons that were forced to don living human flesh, were lesser, insects, nothing more than pathetic parasites. They were far beneath his class, but even so, he made enemies when destroying them. Minions had masters and they were the ones that craved Sebastian’s blood and power. And they never went quietly.

“I assumed that was implicit when I granted you the freedoms to which you weren’t previously accustomed, Sebastian,” Ciel said in a clipped tone as he entered the flower shop. The bright colours and cheerful displays he was expecting would have been a welcomed contrast to the dreariness of the outdoors and the mission, but he’d been mistaken. 

Instead of the grape hyacinths, anemones and camellias that filled most flower shops in the late fall, the shelves and staging areas were filled with an assortment of white flowers, mostly lilies, orchids and carnations, making the shop seem more like a funeral parlour. But more to the point, these flowers were wilting and browning at the tips, filling the space with the scent of organic rot and decay. 

Ciel arched an eyebrow at the demon who followed him like a shadow through the shop and the young master’s footsteps sounded much louder against the porcelain tiles with nothing but the sounds of a sad lullaby coming from the back of the shop to fill his ears. 

She stood there, a woman no more than thirty, tidying an area filled with florist essentials: ribbons, lace, flower wrap, packets of plant food and florist tape. She took no notice of being examined by Ciel as he stood at the counter waiting for her to finish up. When she moved from the counter to the helium tank to fill a mylar balloon, Sebastian cleared his throat. 

The woman spun as though surprised by their presence, “Did you need something?” she snapped. Now that Ciel looked at her properly, he took in her red-rimmed eyes and the darkened bags under them, evidence that she hadn’t slept in days. Her hair was brittle, her skin dehydrated, and she had the appearance of someone who had lost weight rapidly. 

“Not exactly. My associate and I have been summoned to this address; it seems that it is you that might need _our_ help.” He looked down at the paper he held in his palm and the name, then his eyes wandered to her left hand where her wedding band hung loosely on her finger. “It seems we’re here to see your husband, Mikey McQueen.” 

She shook her head, and tears ran down her face, “No, I’m afraid my husband passed last year, an accident in the tube. You’re here to see my son.”

The demon looked around the shop idly, taking note of the rapidly deteriorating plant life and the dust that had accumulated on the sills, the subtle scent of sulfur that permeated every inch, hiding beneath the sickly sweet perfume of death. He was neither interested nor surprised by the woman's declaration. Children were widely susceptible to persuasion and possession. It was easy to be invited in, allowed to take root in the innocence and tarnish them from within while parents believed their child's new friend was make believe and whimsy until it was too late. 

He carefully approached the woman, offering her the crook of his arm and a sympathetic smile. "If you'd be so kind as to take us to him, my dear, I can make this all but a memory," he prompted sweetly, tenderly brushing away a single escaped tear from her cheek. She merely nodded silently and touched the fingers of her unoccupied hand to her numb cheek, leading the way through to the set of creaking steps at the back of the shop.

There were three doors along a hallway upon the landing, ending in the kitchen and living space. One door was fully open to display stained tiling and watermarked plaster in the bathroom, the one next to it ajar and dark while the one adjacent was firmly closed with flickering light streaming beneath it. The flickering was only visible as more than a power surge by unholy eyes. As the door was opened upon the boy, perhaps no more than seven or eight, drenched in sweat and staring blankly at the space where the shadows danced and writhed in victorious celebration. Only he and Sebastian could view the chaotic obscenity. 

The demon's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, impressing his own shadow into the room and forcing the others back, disrupting their premature festivities. There was a hissing cackle that echoed from the boy on the bed that had sat up rigidly straight and steepled his fingers unnaturally. Sebastian turned to the woman whose grip had turned near savage on his arm as she looked on at her son. In Sebastian's view, the child looked like a corpse, gaping mouth and eyeless sockets, threadbare hair and thin skin pulled too taut across bone; it was a rather unseemly sight as all the lower devils seemed to be.

"I think it's time you left us. It’s best you remember him as he was and not what you would see here. When you see him next, he'll be your son again, you have my word sweet lady," he said charmingly, coaxing as he pried her fingers from his arm and sent her dazedly away before he turned his gaze back to Ciel, curious to see what his young master's reaction to his candid performance would be.

Ciel’s eyes widened, he had almost been as charmed as the woman. He turned away from Sebastian to shut the door behind the florist and shook out his head, realizing only then that he would stand little to no chance if the demon decided to turn his appeal on him. 

He peered at the child on the bed though Mikey scarcely looked like one, he resembled more a prisoner of war; which was fitting given the battle that was likely waging inside him. He took the carryall Sebastian held in his hand, got to his knees, undid the knot that held everything together, and splayed it across the floor at the foot of the bed: a Bible, holy water, a crucifix, a rosary, purple stole and candles. He peered at Sebastian from under thick lashes and felt the heat flush his face, “These,” he said, waving his hand at the items on the floor and growling, added, “Aren’t necessary are they?”

Sebastian glanced over the items and back at Ciel. "They're meant to provide you with a shield and sword, but you have me. Would it make you feel safer if I say that they aren't unnecessary young master? Or will you put your _faith_ in me?" the demon asked silkily, ignoring the chortling that echoed from the child's cracked and parted lips.It wouldn't be a lie per se. Realistically whether Ciel utilized the items in question was irrelevant and would make no difference in the outcome of their mission, but the items were not unnecessary should Sebastian have not been present.

Ciel shrugged as he rose to his feet, already bored with the preliminaries of this exorcism. He took a seat on a shabby chair in the corner of the sparsely furnished room and removed the crucifix from the wall that had managed to find its way pointed Christ’s head towards the floor. As he did, the child in the bed sat upright in his small bed, and turned his head at an unnatural angle to glare at him. Crossing his legs, Ciel leaned forward placing his elbow upon his thigh to rest his chin on his knuckles. He smirked, amused by Sebastian’s wordplay, “I’ve no faith to spare, but if you are to be my might, you can get on with it.”

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian inclined his head, a feral, serrated smile stretching his mouth unnaturally as his eyes flickered ethereally and his dark lacquered nails grew sharp and dangerous. He turned back towards the distorted form on the bed, smile growing impossibly wider and bloodthirsty.

“Come out little vermin, tell me the name your master gave you and let’s end this hastily,” he said in an almost taunting lilt, taking deliberate predatory steps towards the now twitching form.

The deformed visage turned his way, gaping mouth twisting to bare tarred teeth in a nasty sneer, “Why should I? Traitor, vile, pitiful, pet, slave. You reek of desperation, been neglecting you haven’t they? Even the name you tote is blasphemy, a slight against your blood. Deserter… Shameless… Taking pride in power granted for your loathsome deceit of your nature. Amazing you can still wander about so casually. You must be used to being the whore of Phantomhive by now. Probably enjoy the boy’s cock bleeding you...” The demon paused as a dark growl like far away thunder sounded through the room, the dark shadowy aura emanating from Sebastian elongating and winged, electric and full of violence. The child threw its head back and cackled raspily. “Ah but from what I’ve heard, perhaps he’s spreading for yours instead…”

“What have you heard? It’s been so long since I’ve heard any gossip; do enlighten me,” Sebastian said in a guttural and smoky tone, closing in on the possessed child, reaching out with taloned fingertips, intent to capture and squeeze the sickly pale throat.

“I’ve heard your number’s coming up Michaelis… The boy has given you no more than a year, gave concessions no other masters have afforded… Did you think we wouldn’t hear the whispers of the ether when he amended the blood contract, that we wouldn’t know he offered you redemption and a title that will leave you weak... The lords are all placing bids for your head. Your essence is almost as good as his. When you no longer have the safety of your holy master, they’ll come for you. You will pay for your crimes against your kin and we’ll have him as added penance. The feast will be glorious.”

“It’s such a shame you won’t be able to attend,” Sebastian said as his fingers closed around the fragile flesh of the boy child’s throat. The demon writhed and pried at his hands as soon as they made contact, shrieking, hissing and cursing him and he tightened his grip, compelling the name from the lesser creature’s mouth. “Ahh, I should have known you were one of his… Balban, servant of Baal. I see he still can’t give up his thirst for the infantile souls of children. He always was so impatient. Greedy too if I remember, but even he serves another master while I am loyal to none. Let them come; it’s been so long since I had any fun,” he murmured, leaning forward over the stiffly contorted and disfigured body, pressing it back into the naked mattress. “I’ll be sure to send my regards to your master for the meal he’s provided, meager as it is,” he was interrupted by another rattling laugh and breathy whispers that echoed around the room eerily. 

“Not mine… Not my master… Not my master’s master… You know… The other six who called you blood.. You’ve been such a naughty son…”

There was a shift in the air, an aching throb as Balban’s mutterings faded into more laboured laughter, drawing the residual death from around him, gathering the anguished spirits and ragged souls into himself, lashing out with sudden intensity, forcing Sebastian to retreat momentarily. He’d been caught off guard by the ramblings. There was no reason nor possibility that the lesser demon was lying to him; he knew the ones to which Balban was referring. Would they bring on the war of wars just to collect him? Had he become such a threat?

He snarled, soot bleeding into his skin from his fingertips and he could feel the flesh of his shoulders breaking as his true form fought to manifest, angry for the insults and the moment of doubt in his own machinations. It’d been so long since his instincts had been allowed freedom, since his appetites had been forcibly curbed, he had no control over the bloodlust that seethed in his veins. 

“Close your eyes young master; it’s better if you don’t see,” he ordered, voice low with dominance, carnal and viciously seductive, compelling Ciel to obey the command. He did not want his butterfly to see his true form; Ciel would surely turn away upon witnessing his ugliness. It was better if the young master knew only his human face; Ciel would never be able to fall in love with him if he could see the true darkness that coloured his demon.

The archived recordings of various exorcisms Ciel had been forced to view during his education was vastly different than experiencing one first hand. The voice that had come from the child hadn’t been as much a surprise as its knowledge of his and the servant’s amended contract. It unsettled him, that someone other than the parties involved knew of his desire to be claimed by the demon. It shamed him tremendously, (not that he would sully his family name in doing so since he had made peace with that fact long ago) that his mother might find out, and think less of him as a result; it made him feel nearly infantine in his anxiety. 

And he resented his father even more now that it was evident that he had been inadequately prepared, that he was weak to even the slightest demonic suggestion. He would have to find a way to ward himself against it since Balban had easily implanted those images of he and Sebastian in his mind; both of them in the throes of passion, himself on his knees willingly submitting to and being filled by some fiendish figure he knew to be his demon despite the fact that it hadn’t taken on the familiar appearance of the servant. And then for Sebastian to be effortlessly able to compel him to close his eyes… Ciel was frustrated, and both stubborn and curious enough to want to disobey.

Sebastian could feel Ciel’s reluctance, his stubbornness and his curiosity, could smell his shamed arousal, but he would not be swayed. If ever a time came that he would allow Ciel to see his true form, it would not be now, perhaps not until the end. He impressed his will further, forcing the young man’s eyelids to become leaden, waiting until the dark lashes had to come to rest against pale and lightly flushed cheeks before he turned his full attention back to the human cloaked demon on the bed.

Skin split and faded, threads of clothing retreating, shifting to the leathery material that clung to his unnatural form intimately, the sharp heels of his boots making almost obnoxious clicking sounds on the wood flooring beneath his feet. His wings unfurled from his back in inky arches, feathers rustling like whispered secrets as he let his power bleed out, compressing and cowing the spirits that had come to assist Balban. He drew them into himself instead, easily coaxing the distraught energies and absorbing them with distaste. Old and neglected souls tasted like ash and bitter regret, too tattered to make sense of, but they served their purpose. 

Balban twisted on the bed, arched and knotted with no regard for the propriety of limbs, angled and broken in the throes of rigour, trying to force his form into the too tiny, underdeveloped body of the child he’d taken residence in. A dark smirk, beastly and dangerous appeared in the shadows of Sebastian’s face, lighted by the scarlet sanguine of inhuman eyes filled with malicious hunger. His appetite surged up, vicious and wild in its long pined for freedom and he became what he was, no human guise to rein him in. 

Black tendrils of frigid shadowed fingers stretched forward, crawling over the young boy on the mattress and grasping tightly, tearing the fragile flesh as the grip of hooked claws sank in to hold the other demon still. He trapped Balban in his chosen vessel so there was no escape and loomed over his confined kin. His razored mouth hovered over the pressed and twisted line of the borrowed mouth and forced it open. Sooty smoke slithered from between his teeth, liquid on his tongue as it whispered over his lips and sought the gaping gash of the boy’s mouth. 

Balban twitched and choked, but like prey constricted in a serpent’s bind, he could not turn away, could not expel the venomous seeking essence of a demon much more powerful than himself. Desperate anguished shrieks began pouring from Balban’s throat and Sebastian pried the other demon from its hold on the young boy, dragged him from his hiding places and Sebastian licked his lips. “Bon Appetit,” he purred before his mouth opened wide, unhinged like some monster, a basilisk to reap and cannibalize the essence of his brethren. 

It was thick, viscous on his tongue like tar, tasting of bitter chocolate and overly metallic with the congealed blood of the souls that Balban had devoured. Disgusting, but satisfying to his base nature and soothing to the hunger in his own blood. It spread in heated waves beneath his skin, proud and fulfilled for the moment. He swallowed.

The boy’s body went limp, sprawled and relaxed, perspiration slick face serene as if in death. Sebastian leaned forward, listening keenly for the whisper of breath on sallow lips, growling when there was none. He laid a hand over the frail chest, taloned fingers spread wide and charred in brilliant contrast to the nearly translucent flesh. He closed his eyes, saw inside the child, drew out the tattered shreds of the child’s battered and raw soul, pieced it together against the obnoxious aberration of his instinctive desire to take it for himself. It was weak and wounded, but it would mend, stitched together like patchwork by the demon’s thread. 

There was a jerk, a start as the boy’s heart fluttered back to life and he drew in the first shuddering breath, replaced it with another and another and Sebastian’s fingers faded from his skin. His form shifted, a rustling of feathers and the breath of a touch on his master’s cheek before he was made human again. “It’s done,” he murmured close to Ciel’s ear, warmed and sweet breath seductively curling over the sensitive appendage, close, but he was not when those liquid azure depths opened once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 Blooper Reel
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> *Scene Three “Grapevine” (Upstairs, McQueen’s Florist) Take Three*
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> **Sebastian _(to the florist)_ :** I think it's time you left us. It’s best you remember him as he was and not what you would see here. When you see him next, he'll be your son again, you have my word sweet lady.
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> _(Sebastian pries the florist’s fingers from his arm and sends her dazedly away before he turned his gaze back to Ciel who has run towards the bed holding out his phone awkwardly to get a shot of he and the distorted boy.)_
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> **Ciel _(attaches the picture to a text message and texts furiously)_** : Soma u bitch, look who got the 1st exorcism. Suck it.
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> *Scene Three “Grapevine” (Upstairs, McQueen’s Florist) Take 5*
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> _(Ciel gets on his knees at the foot of the boy’s bed and unties the knot that held the carryall together, splaying it across the floor: Metal wrist and ankle cuffs, butt plug, leather harness, French tickler, vibrating cock ring and oral sex enhancers.)_
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> **Ciel: _(peering at Sebastian from under thick lashes, trying to keep a straight face)_ :** These aren’t necessary are they?
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> **Sebastian:** Abso-fucking-lutely they are.
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Three “Grapevine” (Upstairs, McQueen’s Florist) Take Eleven*
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> **Sebastian _(smiling at the at the distorted figure on the bed)_ :**Come out little vermin, tell me the name your master gave you and let’s end this hastily.
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> **Balban: (singing)** Sebastian and Ciel, sitting in a tree, F-U-K-I-N-G…
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> **Seb:** There's a c in fucking you halfwit…
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Three “Grapevine” (Upstairs, McQueen’s Florist) Take Fifteen*
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> **Balban:** Did you think we wouldn’t hear the whispers of the ether when he amended the blood contract, that we wouldn’t know he offered you redemption and a title that will leave you weak... The lords are all placing bids for your head…
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> **Ciel _(interrupts by clearing his throat)_ :** Can I get in on that? _(takes his wallet out)_
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> **Seb:** Which head do you want to bid on love?
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Three “Grapevine” (Upstairs, McQueen’s Florist) Take Eighteen*
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> **Sebastian _(compelling Ciel in a low, dominating, seductive voice)_ :** Close your eyes young master; it’s better if you don’t see…
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> _(Ciel closes his eyes obediently.)_
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> **Sebastian** Now say ahhh...
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> _Cut!_


	4. Grim Fancies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Don't talk to strangers.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Temptation by The Tea Party](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFzQX2i6mwo&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=64)  
> Ciel~ [Send Them Off! by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vn-6fiVkAcA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things start getting interesting...  
> Enjoy :)

Ciel's eyes snapped open at Sebastian's low crooning; the invisible weight that had secured them shut had finally been lifted. The room was painted in darkness and he couldn’t even see his hand when he brought it up to his face. 

“Sebastian?” he called out, getting to his feet, feeling the wall as a guide towards the doorway where he knew the light switch would be located. He tripped over something on his way and when he found the switch and flipped it, he remained in the dark. He didn’t remember the sound of a bursting bulb, at least not among the choking or the shrieking. “Sebastian, where are you? This isn’t funny.” Ciel found the door and threw it open, letting it bang against the wall as the light from the hallway illuminated the small bed that sat in its path. 

The trail of light revealed much more than just a sickly looking sleeping child on a bare mattress; above the bed and along the wall was the oddest mural he’d ever laid eyes on, one that definitely hadn’t been there prior to the _exorcism_. It looked as though someone had made obscene snow angles in soot, except there were no figures less angelic than the ones stretched across the wall. Even the windows were covered, every inch of them- no wonder it had been so tenebrous in the room. Ciel ran a hand over it, barely cleaning the pane of glass and brought it to his nose; it smelled strongly of sulfur and suffering. 

It was at that point that the child’s mother rushed into the room. She looked to have aged ten years in the half hour since he’d arrived. She glanced at her son then to Ciel then back at her son and her chin began to quiver. The young Phantomhive held a finger to his lips, indicating that she should be quiet and they both approached Mikey McQueen, kneeling onto the floor by his side. “He’ll be alright,” he whispered, “He just needs to sleep. Once he is able, keep him on a light diet of fruits and vegetables, nuts and grains until he can stomach something heavier- though that might take a few months. And keep him hydrated.” 

The mother nodded as she took in the room. “Where is your assistant?” 

“He needed to… go.” The truth of this statement only hit Ciel the moment the words left his mouth. He understood now why the demon had taken leave in such a haste; while the atmosphere in the room was no longer oppressive and stale, the lingering scent of Sebastian hung heavy in the air and it buzzed with an undercurrent of barely-suppressed need and want.

“But I didn’t see him leave.” The woman’s response sounded more like a question than an observation. 

Ciel did not answer. He owed the woman nothing more than having brought an extra demon into her home to rid her of her problem. “Open the window please, and fetch my things. I’ll need you to show me where you’d like me to bring your son.” As she followed his instructions, Ciel secured the frail boy in his arms, clutching him to his chest, and rose to his feet. He followed the woman to her own bedroom and lay her son on her bed. “You’ll want to give that room sufficient time to air out before moving him back in. You should also soon notice a revival in your plants and flowers.” He took his carryall from the woman, and withdrew a glass phial of solidified blood belonging to Saint Junuarius that he had recently confiscated from a crypt in Naples. “Keep this in your home, it should help ward off whatever it was that has been causing you and your son problems. I’ll show myself out.” They said nothing more as he made his way to the street and hailed a taxi. 

“Where to?” the large driver asked gruffly as Ciel sat behind the driver, recoiling at the sound of religious hymns playing softly on the radio. 

“Just drive for the next thirty minutes, and turn that music off, I need to relax.”

***

Sebastian had been forced to flee as soon as he’d caught the first glimpse of midnight depths behind the veil of Ciel’s lashes. He hadn’t meant to linger so close, hadn’t realized the magnetism that had drawn him in as he’d finished and his pride had rushed deliciously beneath his skin. He should have expected it, given the mutual attraction he and his butterfly shared, should have recalled what it felt like when he was without restraint.

The sudden ferocious fire of desire, lust so potent, he was burning from within, liquid flames of arousal licking through his veins, searing his blood and exciting his human body in a manner he could scarcely help. The dominion he had over his mortal flesh was overtaken by the aching, throbbing, desperately clawing _need_. How long had it been since he’d tasted his nature, the freedom, the liberation in the violence and sated bloodlust and the sweet rush of wanting that came after? He’d not realized he’d been missing it, not considered that it would return with vengeance now that Ciel had given the permission for him to feel and could not have properly predicted how desperate he would be to sate it in his young master’s skin.

So abrupt and consuming was the carnal need that he had for one moment thought to take him right there, just then, careless of the child or his mother; he’d have devoured them both had they interrupted. So vivid was the fantasy that he’d almost reached for him, tasted him from within, an echoing of keening wails and harsh breaths ricocheting in his head. He could not act upon it, but could not abstain and so he fled. 

He was pacing in his small quarters, snarling and tearing at his clothing, hissing and scratching at his own skin, crawling with barely tethered desire, screaming through his nerves, pleading for release. He’d never had to restrain himself before; it had been forced, but never had he ever made the conscious choice and effort to curb his own appetites especially not for anyone else’s sake. Such was the selfish nature of demons. And could he not just seek another? No… He craved for his butterfly and no other shade of blue would do. 

His frustration was palpable, dark and bittersweet like Oleander in his normally mild scent. His human body buzzed without end, hot and frigid at once, feverish and perspiring on his flushed skin. His cock strained and wept, throbbing with wanton ruthlessness, stubbornly stiff and unrelenting. He’d never done it, too lowly for his taste, an act of humans and lesser fiends than he, but he was sorely tempted to wrap his own fist around it until it was appeased.

***

Thirty-seven minutes had been long enough to stare at the prominently displayed taxi permit of Lloyd Patel, long enough to sit uncomfortably on the well-worn faux leather seats, and more than enough time to gain a new hate-on for the odor of old cigarette smoke that had clung to said seats. He got out from the vehicle still feeling unsettled and appraised the London flat that had belonged to his family for some generations with the same disdain he had for the Phantomhive estate. He was still irritated by the demon’s disappearance, and even more so by his lack of knowing what their plan was now that they had completed the mission for which they had been summoned.

None of it should matter of course; was he not the master? The demon was tethered to him and not the other way around. They would return home since he knew Elizabeth had mentioned coming ‘round soon after graduation. Yes, that’s what he would do. He needed to put some distance between he and the demon, and it was easier to think objectively around the topic when Sebastian wasn’t hovering.

He locked the door behind him once he had entered the flat, hung his jacket and made for the lift that would bring him to the Penthouse. If the demon was here, he might have prepared a lunch, or at the very least, some tea. The thought of the warm liquid coursing through him soothed his pulse and he pressed the call button for the lift more forcefully than needed. Once inside the elevator, the appeal of lighting a fire and reading some Poe when he was finally settled upstairs became so inviting that he almost missed the well-manicured hand, deadly nails dripping red as though dipped in blood, pushing themselves between the closing lift doors. Ciel spun, confused as to who would have access to his flat and insulted by the presupposition that he would want his newly-established plans interrupted by an unwanted guest.

“Tee-hee… sorry Darling, could you hold the lift?” A falsely feminine simper filled the small space as two hands pried the doors open until they groaned under the pressure and came off their hinges to fall through the gap and into the basement.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my flat?”

“Ooooh, you don’t know who I am? How sad,” the individual said invading his personal space, but ignoring him otherwise, looking himself in the mirrored wall that wrapped around the lift to reapply candy apple red lipstick to his exaggerated pout. The stranger flipped his long red, tousled hair then examined his reflection from several angles, “I thought he might have mentioned me… Of course I know exactly who _you_ are… You’re a spitting image of your father, though a touch more _lively_ , I daresay.”

Ciel clenched his fists and took a step back; for this individual to know his father was dead, he must be a demon similar to the one back at the flower shop. 

“And why would Vincent have mentioned you?” Only a couple reasons; either this demon was a failed exorcism attempt or he had information to pass on from the other side.

“Oh, not Vincent my sweetest angel, I meant _Bassy_. He’s here isn’t he? I could smell him, followed his scent from the flower shop where I had been working. I’m quite cross with him of course, what a gourmand, not leaving a single soul for little ‘ole me.” And as though the demon meant to demonstrate his irritation, he slammed the emergency stop button and with a well-aimed kick, destroyed the alarm with a spiked heel before it even went off. “There, that won’t bother us.”

Ciel backed himself into the corner and felt the mirrored surface against his back. He unfastened the clasp on his carryall, and nonchalantly went through the items, trying to gauge which of its contents would be most effective against the intruder. “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you?”

“I’m the single most important individual in your demon’s life,” he answered, examining his nails.

“His tailor?” Ciel answered, trying to buy himself some time.

“No, silly boy, his _lover_ ,” he purred, wetting his painted lips, “I’ve come to him, he’s beckoned me of course… since you’re obviously not interested in fulfilling your duties. And those items won’t work on me, don’t bother my little bug.”

Ciel expected a demon to say as much, so it didn’t stop him from removing the stopper off the vial of holy water and drenching the demon’s face.

His reaction would have been comical had it not completely backfired and left Ciel staring in confusion. “You’ve gotten me wet, that was Bassy’s job!” the redhead shrieked, stomping his foot furiously. “Nevermind that,” he continued like flipping a switch, powdering his face with a small compact he had retrieved from his pocket, “Do you know what it does to him, devouring all those souls? He must be aching, must be rutting himself into a frenzy… All the more reason for me to go to him straight away to ease that tension.”

“I’m sure he’s quite sated.” Ingesting those souls must have left Sebastian quite full. He might have misinterpreted the earlier atmosphere above the florists; maybe the need he sensed was a need for a nap, not unlike after a Thanksgiving feast.

“Not even close, little… oh, what is it he calls you… little caterpillar? Little millipede? Potato bug! That’s it! At least your father had the good sense to bend over for the demon after a job. He gladly got on his knees to suck the need right out of that gorgeous devil. Sometimes your mother even watched. She might have even participated a few times as well...”

“You asshole,” Ciel seethed from where he stood, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bitch, darling. Besides, you’re not exactly his type, too soft and weak, won’t put up enough of a fight.” the intruder observed, running his tongue over his teeth predatorily, “Whatever attraction you may feel towards my soul’s mate is artifice, but Bassy can’t help it, not with who he is…”

“That’s enough, just get the hell out, whoever you are.” The taunts about his dead father had been one thing, defiling his mother’s good name had been another, but it was bringing Ciel’s insecurities about his relationship with the demon to light that had set him off.

“I’m sorry, Potato Bug, but alas, I cannot. My Dark Prince has needs; just consider this a favour I’m doing you,” he said moving in on Ciel, pulling something as though from thin air, a chainsaw? An oversized chainsaw? “He would break you, I’m meant to be broken, am broken already; well not as broken as you’re about to be.”

“Ah, I see, you’re a Reaper. Well that’s no fun for you, there are no souls to harvest here and mine is protected for now, isn’t it Sebastian?” 

Sebastian had not been able to sufficiently subdue his desire, had lost the battle to remain above the base needs of lesser beings, but his hand had moved of its own accord. So desperate, so needy. His own grip was both satisfying and disappointing, not at all the one he pined for, but better than none at all. He was growling, grunting, hissing and cursing breathily as he rutted into his own fist, eyes closed to better view the erotic and wicked imagery that flickered in his mind’s eye. So out of his mind with lust and dizzy with fantasy, he did not smell his master’s return nor the insufferable trespasser.

He snarled and his eyes sparked with feral light as Ciel’s call echoed in his blood, tugging him, prodding and becoming more insistent the longer he resisted. It compelled him and he bared his teeth savagely as he righted himself, settling his appearance as best he could, clothing slithering back over his skin in rough agitation, irritating on his aching flesh. So close he’d been and to be disrupted… He couldn’t even summon the decency to feign embarrassment as his body remained taut and thrumming, desire so palpably unsated and still wanting. The only shame he felt was that he had had to stoop so low as to provide his own relief and even then, he’d not been allowed to finish. He was now doubly on edge, control weak and brittle like frozen thread.

“Indeed it is and what an exquisite soul it is,” Sebastian answered Ciel, his voice lower and huskier than it had ever been, strained as he struggled to maintain the tenuous hold he had on his restraint. He ignored the dampness of his skin, the clinging of his apparel as it was stained with the bittersweet evidence of his lust and trained his glowing crimson cat’s eyes on a disdainfully familiar face. Grell Sutcliffe, the single most disreputable and obnoxious reaper he’d ever had the displeasure to meet. And worse, Grell had formed some sort of delusional attachment to him, had thrown himself at him again and again, so pathetically desperate and wanton and he stunk like all reapers did, sickeningly sweet like rotting flowers. And they were angels, righteous in their penitent duty and their loyalty to God’s will, though Grell seemed eccentric even amongst his kin. Disgusting…

He shifted, placing himself between the scarlet clad reaper and his young master, shielding Ciel possessively. “You’re an eyesore. Leave before I’m forced to relieve your body of your useless head,” he said, a deceptively charming politeness to his tone, a dangerous bite beneath the words and a feverish beastiality behind his slitted sanguine depths. He was in no mood to deal with the over affectionate and delusional pandering of the redheaded reaper. At least his presence was enough of a distraction to keep his attention from lingering on his master in a most disconcerting manner.

The biting insult and threat had made the indignant reaper retreat until he tripped over the lip, falling on his rear pathetically out of the lift. Righting his glasses, he fixed the demon with a piercing, seductive stare as he crawled back towards him. “Mmm… I love when you humiliate me, Sebas-chan… like foreplay, that was.” He stopped before the tense demon, kneeling and sitting back on his feet as he loosened the bow around his neck. “You smell so good, a girl just can’t help herself,” he said, sniffing the air appreciatively, “What were you doing just now? I bet I can guess… just look at your human façade, my sweet prince, can’t even conceal a thing, not the sheen of sweat you’re wearing, not the basilisk in your trousers… and you’re not even ashamed- tee hee!” He licked his lips and reached for the demon, “Don’t worry, neither am I,” he whispered, “Let me help you finish. The boy can watch; he can learn for next time…”

The sole of Sebastian's boot found purchase on Grell's face as the reaper’s greedily groping hands sought him out. He was almost disappointed that he was too disgusted by the reaper to accept his offer, would rather allow the writhing heat to seethe on and burn him from within or shamefully find his relief in his own hand than let Grell's touch sate him. The very consideration of it gave credence to just how disturbingly consuming his insatiable lusting was and it turned his stomach most unpleasantly. 

He forced the redhead down, grinding his boot into the top of the reaper's skull and in turn forcing his face unpleasantly into the marbled wood flooring, snorting disdainfully, lips twisted into a disgusted curl. "It withers with every abhorrence that leaves that red stained gash you call a mouth. Do shut up, would you," the demon said scathingly, pressing down harder. It was a half truth in the insult. He was repulsed by the sight, scent and very essence of the overenthusiastic and flamboyant reaper, but with his master just behind him and the tingling memory of that possessive touch, the stubborn stiffness of his manhood had not wilted in the least. 

"My apologies young master, I'll dispose of this trash post haste. A fine white willow and lavender tea paired with honey-glazed apricot tart has been arranged for you in your study if you'd be so kind as to take the stairs in the lift's stead. Shall I join you when I've finished with this?" he said belatedly, turning his gaze to his master once again, ignoring the flailing and scrabbling of Grell's hands as he firmly asphyxiated him against the flooring.

Ciel sighed indignantly and quivered with unconcealed rage behind his protector, “Trying to get rid of me? Very well, Sebastian, I’ll leave you to your _plaything_.” He came around the servant’s tall figure and removed his eyepatch, wanting to use both his eyes to communicate so that his displeasure could not be misinterpreted, “Honestly, I pegged you as having more refined, more sophisticated taste; it appears I was wrong.” The reaper snickered from the ground, and it only fuelled Ciel’s jealousy. 

Behaving more impulsively than usual, he grabbed Sebastian by the collar and pulled him down so that their faces came within an inch of one another. His chest heaved and he felt his nostrils flare, “Don’t keep me waiting, demon; your Master is… frustrated.” With that, he took his leave, careful to tread on crimson-painted nails as he went. 

He walked stiffly to the staircase, made his way up four floors and slammed the door behind him once he had entered the Penthouse. As Sebastian promised, the tea and tart sat waiting for the young master on the bistro table overlooking the busy London street. His appetite non-existent, Ciel went to the master suite and stripped himself down to his undergarments, wanting to get rid of the clothing that reeked of sulfur and the sickly-sweet scent of the demon’s lover. He sat in his father’s favoured plush armchair, put his feet up and took comfort in reading about the jealousy of others portrayed in Poe’s Cask of Amantillado.

Sebastian was far more aggressive than was strictly necessary while he bound and gagged the insufferable reaper so tightly, the silken curtain fastenings he used cut into Grell’s skin which only seemed to excite the eccentric redhead. He was rather touched in the head, Sebastian surmised once again. Every time he had had the displeasure of dealing with the devious and deranged reaper, from their very first meeting, he’d concluded as much. If only he weren’t the one the lunatic had fixated on. He sighed and brushed his hands off once he’d tossed the hogtied redhead next to the rubbish bins, being sure to ward the building against him for the future; he had no doubts about Grell’s persistence. Afterall, it’d been centuries already that the reaper had pursued him when he could.

Once finished and returned within the dwelling, the pale demon took several calming breaths that were not particularly effective in calming him at all. His blood still simmered and buzzed, skin feeling raw and electric in the confines of his constricting clothes. He was burning still and his master was waiting. He had no time to find his relief, compelled to return the the young Phantomhive’s side where he’d ordered him to be, but that wasn’t the only reason. His nature drew him towards his butterfly, pressed him to capture him, pin his wings and claim him for his own, brand him deeper than even the contract between them could go. He wanted to make his master scream, to cry, to beg for him and he wasn’t mistaken in the knowledge that Ciel wanted to belong to him. It only made it all that much more difficult to curb his appetite, to remain patient when his pride pressed for further validation and the lust that had always been his to manipulate had overtaken him. 

He tugged away his dark tailcoat, letting it melt from his fingertips as he stepped purposefully down the corridor that would lead him to Ciel. If he was made to burn, he could at least be more comfortable instead of suffocating in his own skin. He untucked the crisp white linen of his shirt and unfastened at least half the buttons so that the cooler, softer air could wash over the smooth musculature of his chest and chill his sweat. He paused outside the study, listening, holding his breath for long moments, longer than any mortal could, closing his eyes briefly. He could hear the master’s heartbeat, the pulsing rhythm of his blood, the stirring of his breath and whisper of turned pages. His butterfly was reading, attempting to at least, probably to calm the racing of his heart and its stumbling gait in its haste. 

He let out a breath, remembering to draw another and another as humans should and wrapped the back of his knuckles against the wood twice quietly before he let himself in. He noticed immediately that the young man had not touched his food, but had indeed taken the first cup of tea. “Is the tart not to your liking my lord?” he questioned as he moved to refill Ciel’s near empty teacup with another swirling weak-coloured brew, the divine scent of it permeating the room and complementing the scent of Ciel’s frustration, jealousy, and arousal. Sebastian had to wonder if perhaps he wasn’t the only one being affected by the heady desire that naturally seeped from him, especially while he was wound so tightly and burdened with the shackles of his captivity that begged his patience. It wouldn’t do to crush his butterfly beneath the weight of sin he carried in him. He would have to abstain; he just hoped Ciel did not plan to tempt him out of spite or something further… 

When Sebastian came into his line of vision, Ciel gave him a once-over and chewed the inside of his cheek. His servant was dressed much more relaxed (shirt unbuttoned and hanging out of his trousers) than what had quickly become the norm. It put the young master on edge, even after he had worked hard at reigning in his resentment and envy. Refusing to acknowledge _Bassy’s_ question about the tart of all things, he countered with one of his own, eyes never leaving his book, “Are you sated now? That was quite fast; either the reaper has low standards when it comes to performance or my subconscious grossly overestimated your abilities as it pertains to pleasures of the flesh.”

Sebastian snorted rudely, but could not lie when asked such a concise question. "No, I'm not. I wouldn't be even had I stooped to allowing that paltry thing to paw at me. As for my _abilities_ in such acts, I imagine it's beyond what your imagination could conjure," he answered, widely dilated and hooded crimson turning to Ciel again as the young man feigned interest in his text. He was not fooling himself and he certainly wasn't fooling his demon. 

Sebastian moved swift and silent, a shadow on the wall to take him closer without his master's realizing, and closer still. He bent, hovering aside the young man's head and breathed huskily over the flushed shell of CIel's left ear, "You seem put out. Would you like a demonstration, my envious little lord?"

 _Yes!_ is what Ciel wanted to scream at the servant perched over him like a bird of prey; instead of verbally acknowledging the demon, his breath caught itself on the way out. He flushed, actually saw the pink spread on his near-naked body and knew that given how close Sebastian was standing, the demon could probably feel the heat radiating off his skin. 

“I am put out because I have many unanswered questions, Sebastian. I wonder what it was that had distracted you to the extent that you did not notice your master’s return to his residence, or why I was left to deal with that… that foul, vile creature on my own.” He got out of his seat, pushing the small ottoman aside with his foot like a petulant child and rounded on the servant, “Also, if this kind of summons is to be a regular occurrence, what is it exactly that you will need to be sated, if you do not feel satisfied after having consumed that many souls?” He turned away from Sebastian, unable to look him in those cat-like eyes, fearing the demon would see the desire that hid under his angry outburst. 

Sebastian drew back, a guarded sharpness bleeding into feline eyes, but he did not move further away, did not put more distance between them. It would have been better if his master had not asked. "I'm afraid it's my freed nature that's put me in such a state... The souls are satisfying as any meal that fills a hungry hollow, but power and the subjugation of my prey leaves a ravenous, fiendish fire in its wake. It's been so long since my carnal nature was allowed to surface, I was ill prepared for its onslaught... You look confused my lord, perhaps I should clarify," he paused in his explanation, wetting his lips in a sultry, taunting display. 

"There's a reason it's a mortal sin and one I used to know so well... Lust, little butterfly. It's lust that consumes me and demands its due, makes me crave flesh and bone and sinew, to feel it in blood and marrow to the core. It's lust that drives the desire to hear moaning, gasping, breaths ragged and broken, hitched with begging, desperate whines, a relative symphony of debauchery... Lust that facilitates the need to taste, to taint and claim. Brutal, insatiable yearning that burns me from within, singes my nerves and sets my own skin alight. In this body, I have so little control over it, less so because of the century and a half it spent caged and bound by a long line of Phantomhives before you."

He stepped forward, reached for Ciel's left wrist, drew it in so swiftly and unexpectedly that the young man had no time to tear it away from his grip. He guided the youth's hand beneath the hem of his shirt, the last buttons slipping free of their catches of their own accord, coerced no doubt by the demon that wore them and displaying the milky flesh of his perfectly sculpted torso temptingly. He pressed Ciel's palm beneath his navel, coaxed his slim, delicate fingers apart, splaying over taut and damp skin that was burning to the touch, the muscles there tensing and relaxing repeatedly as his erection strained at the crotch of his pants, now well visible without the long collared shirt's obscurity. 

"Lust drives mortal men to madness, what do you think it does to my kind left unsated? What I _need_ is consummation, carnal gratification, sweat and blood and tears of pleasure so potent, Nirvana seems mundane in comparison... How shall I sate it to your satisfaction pretty little butterfly when that infernal craving is for no other, than you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 Blooper Reel
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (Mickey’s bedroom) Take One*
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> _(While carrying the kid, Ciel smacks his head against the doorframe.)_
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>  **Ciel:** Oops... _(internal monologue)_ Thank fuck you're unconscious… or at least you are now.
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (Sebastian’s Bedroom) Take Two*
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> _(And could he not just seek another? No… He craved for his butterfly and no other shade of blue would do.)_
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>  **Seb _(looking in his little black book)_ :** He's dead, ate this one, she gives bad head…
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (In the Elevator) Take Four*
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>  **Grell:** Not even close, little… oh, what is it he calls you… little caterpillar? Little earwig? Cockroach! That’s it! At least your father had the good sense to bend over for the demon after a job. He gladly got on his knees to suck the need right out of that gorgeous devil. Sometimes your mother even watched. She might have even participated a few times as well…
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>  **Ciel _(seething with arms crossed)_ :** You asshole
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>  **Grell _(grinning toothily)_ :** Bitch, darling. Besides, you’re not exactly his type, too soft and weak, won’t put up enough of a fight. Whatever attraction you may feel towards my soul’s mate is artifice, but Bassy can’t help it, not with who he is…Ack! 
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> _(Ciel slaps Grell across the mouth.)_
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>  **Grell:** Why you little!
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> _(A hairpulling, slapping fight like teenage girls, complete with shrieking and hissing ensues.)_
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (Outside the Elevator) Take Five*
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>  **Grell:** Bassy is that a snake in your trousers or are you just happy to see me? _(gropes and screeches, yanking hand back with a snake latched onto it)_
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>  **Snake _(rushes over from off-set)_ :** Oh Emily there you are, thank goodness. _(looks at Seb)_ “Thanks for the ride," says Emily.
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>  **Seb:** Anytime.
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> _Cut!_
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (Ciel’s Study) Take Eight*
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> _(Ciel sat in his father’s favoured plush armchair, put his feet up and took comfort in reading the stack of Kuroshitsuji yaoi doujinshis until Sebastian arrives.)_
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>  **Seb:** Where did you find those?
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>  **Ciel:** In your underwear drawer.
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>  **Seb:** Thou shalt not steal.
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>  **Ciel:** Oh put a sock in it you pervert. You’ve no right to chastise me; I’m thirteen in most of these.
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>  **Seb:** What can I say, I’m a sucker for them little shorts. I have a pair tucked away if you’d like to roleplay. _(Looks way too excited as Ciel closes the manga)_
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>  _Cut!_
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> *Scene Four “Grim Fancies” (Ciel’s Study) Take Thirteen*
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>  **Seb _(looming over Ciel)_ :** You seem put out. Would you like a demonstration, my envious little lord?
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>  **Ciel:** Obviously. 
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> _(Both their clothing is gone in the blink of an eye.)_
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>  **Ciel _(wide-eyed and obviously aroused)_ :** I said that out loud didn’t I?
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>  **Seb:** No take backsies. _(Pounces)_
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> _(Gratuitous sex scene ensues)_
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> _Cut! Cut! For the love of Christ, that’s not in the script!_


	5. Watcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Seeing is believing  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Catch and Release by Silversun Pickups](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j08iHBqiavU&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=47)  
> Ciel~ [Hold Me Down by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKnG2d9tZdU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "SMUT!"  
> Now that we have your attention- Enjoy <3
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> [Haunting by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjyGkvNUtRU)

The more Sebastian spoke of lust, the more Ciel physically responded to the demon’s description of it. As he mentioned ragged and broken breaths, so did the young master find it an arduous task to breathe. As the servant spoke of whining, the more difficult it became for Ciel to suppress his own. And the longer he kept his hand on the dampened, heated flesh, the more his own seemed to ignite with the fires of want and need. 

Even when the firm grip let go of his wrist, he left his hand on Sebastian of his own accord, and felt no shame in keeping his fingers fanned to touch as much of the abdomen, chest and sides of that defined torso as possible. He daren’t look the man in his auburn-soaked eyes as he felt the human facade shift and slip somewhat, growing more attractively fiendish the more Ciel touched, kneaded and grazed the skin with his short nails. If he did hazard a glance, he would cease to think and too many of his speculations would be lost, especially when they were all coming together in his lust-addled mind. 

Ciel understood, or at least thought he understood the demon’s need for carnal gratification because at that very moment, he felt he would burst into flames; felt the nagging persistence of it as it stirred and fought against the confines of his own undergarments. But he would not trust the urge, could not be certain if it was even real, or even his own. Not after Sebastian had compelled him with such ease at the flower shop, had forced him to blind himself from seeing his _lover’s_ true form, even despite his own wish, his _right_ to know the demon as honestly and as intimately as Sebastian seemed to know him. And he would not continue to chase this burning, fervid feeling after the reaper had taunted him about how easily persuaded he was by Sebastian’s charms, how it wasn’t the demon’s fault since any arousal couldn’t be helped due to the very nature of this demon’s power. 

Clearly this was meant as more than simply pointing out the standard lust most demons could evoke in mortals; this was meant to support what Ciel had already begun piecing together after Balban had let slip that six others were calling for Sebastian’s blood. Together with how he waxed poetic about lust, could the being he had hoped to redeem be none other than the seventh? A pity the demon hadn’t rendered him deaf as well as blind if this was something he had wanted kept from his master.

For all this, Ciel refused to trust his own heart and followed his head instead. He had experienced his own share of pretty words; words that had meant to flatter and lure him in, giving of himself that which he stubbornly guarded. He kept himself pure, chaste, a defense mechanism, knowing that his destined path would be made easier, that he would be less likely to fall prey to the taunts and tricks of those he was meant to expunge by abstaining altogether. Up until now, the task had been facile to the point of child’s play; now, all he wanted was to be claimed, to be broken and put back together, to lose his identity and have part of himself branded onto someone else. Yet, he would resist until he knew without a doubt that these desires were his own. 

He pressed his softened lips against Sebastian’s chest, the height at which he stood when before the demon, and mumbled into his spicy, smooth skin, “I don’t want you to suffer needlessly…” A heady sensation overcame him as his lips blazed against the fire that was the demon’s flesh. “If it is your freed nature that is harming you so, we could amend the covenant, remove some of those liberties?” Ciel caught his own bottom lip between his teeth as he gazed upwards finally, feeling the fluttering of the demon’s stuttered breath, sure enough of himself to meet the briefest hurt and disbelief that flickered in Sebastian’s eyes. Chagrined by what he saw, Ciel changed his course abruptly. 

“Or…” he said, bringing his hands to rest low on the demon’s hips, tucking his thumbs inside the waistband of Sebastian’s trousers, humming as he considered his next move. He gently pushed Sebastian back a few paces until the back of the demon’s legs hit the daybed, “Or… we could relieve some of that tension?” To his credit, the demon did not interrupt or argue, remaining hauntingly silent and did nothing to resist him as Ciel pushed a little harder, forcing him to sit at the edge of the bed. The teen did not hesitate in making room for himself between the servant’s thighs or in undoing the clasp of the demon’s trousers. He ignored the hiss and piercing stare as the threads of Sebastian’s clothing retreated and faded encouragingly beneath his fingers, leaving behind smooth, yet firm skin, making things much more convenient, “You still didn’t tell me what it was I interrupted when I called for you,” Ciel cast his glance to the demon’s lap and his cheek lifted as he could clearly see through the tight-fitted underwear, the impressive manhood the demon had conceived for his mortal front; one he knew the young master might one day worship, long and full with a flared tip large enough for it to be obvious as it hung stiff, heavy and covered against the demon’s left thigh. 

Sebastian was still and unmoving under the young man’s gaze, watching Ciel watching him, made more aroused by the eager caress of Ciel’s eyes on his body, the youth’s increasing interest palpable in his appraising stare and in the slow straining of his voice. The demon’s skin prickled with pleasured pride, excited by the touch of his master’s fingers lingering on his skin and the coy teasing of his words.

Encouraged by the demon’s seeming obedience, Ciel moistened his lips again and drew himself closer to the demon, was all but pressed flush against the raven’s warm chest, and whispered seductive words of his own, soft breath against Sebastian’s ear, as the demon’s cock pulsed against his hip, “You poor thing, you must be positively _aching_ ,” he said, palming Sebastian’s length, feeling it throb in his hand, “It must be begging for release, especially if my beckoning interrupted you...” He could practically feel his own blood boiling, feel electricity run through him as though he had been struck by lightning. Giving the member one final harsh squeeze, Ciel grabbed Sebastian’s hand and positioned it where his own had been moments ago, coaxing the black-tipped fingers to brace themselves around it. 

“And I understand people enough to know that while under the strong allure of lust, they say things they believe to be true at the moment, but deny once their mind is clear. I’m well accustomed to hearing half-truths from beautiful mouths, though none so beautiful as yours.” Ciel pulled away, enjoying Sebastian’s thirsty expression as the demon kept hold of his own member and remained rigidly motionless; unbreathing for moments too long to be mortal. 

“Until I can believe what you say, you’ll be on your own to find your release; well, not completely, I’ll sit here and watch,” he explained, trying to suppress a satisfied little smirk. He gave the demon no time to answer as he walked out of the room towards the bistro table, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t start now; first let me fetch myself a piece of the tart to have with this tea while I watch your show. You see, I’m craving something sweet, and your tart will be sufficient to satisfy my… craving.”

The demon’s grip around his member tightened unconsciously, body coiled so tightly that his skin ached and shook with tension. His feral eyes tracked every move his master made, a guttural growl rumbling from within his heaving chest with every torturously deliberate and slow motion Ciel completed.He hissed a breath between clenched and bared teeth, but remained still as he’d been ordered, unable to disobey the directive despite the desperate instinct begging him to act on his own desires instead. 

“There’s nothing more honest than lust my lord. The basest, most primal of sins, the unquenchable need for the mingling of skins and essences made whole. It’s _divine_. By my very nature I’m not inclined to deceive you; even if I had the intention, I could not by the restrictions of our imposed contract. Deny it all you wish my lord, but lust is always honest, yours included,” his voice tapered silkily into a humid breath and he wet his lips, swallowed excess saliva. His muscles quivered and twitched, flexing and shuddering as war waged under his skin. Ciel remained turned away from him, but Sebastian could see the aroused flush on the back of his neck and smell it in the subtle perspiration on the young man’s skin regardless of the barriers Ciel had kept between them.

“You can keep the comfort of your doubt for now bittersweet butterfly; I know what you keep inside that pretty soul of yours. I’ll remind you, it was you who first called me _lover_. And I can feign no fondness. What is it that truly restrains you master, that I could be luring you or is it that I could be capable of making all your innermost desires reality?” His husky words were alluring, liquid and rich on his tongue and they echoed in the room inhumanly, tapered to a heated whisper at the back of Ciel’s neck, “You’re practically begging for me to love you even while you deny me the pleasure of possessing you. Patience is a virtue I’ve grown accustomed to. I can wait my lord, the question is, can you? When you called me, I was as I am now, desperate enough to make do to spare you. But you don’t want to be spared, do you? Order me my wicked little butterfly and I’ll gladly perform for you.” 

Ciel stood before the bistro table, cutting himself a small portion of the tart and placing it on an ornate plate. He wasn’t hungry, not in the least, but he needed a distraction, needed to be able to focus his attention on something that wasn’t as sinfully beautiful as the demon grasping his length on the daybed he had often fallen asleep on as a child. Once satisfied that the pink had mostly faded from his cheeks, Ciel addressed the demon over his shoulder, where he could still see Sebastian, ignoring what he had spoken, unable to argue with any of the points he’d made, “I’m nearly ready.” He brought the knife to his tongue to lick the sweet apricot filling of the tart, nicking the tip of it in the process. He smirked as the distinct metallic and salty taste combined with the thicker, heavier mouthfeel of the fruit.

Back in the study, he deposited his plate on the book he’d been reading earlier and approached the demon with the kind of confidence that even surprised himself. He grabbed his lover’s collar roughly, bringing him in until their foreheads touched, “I need to see you properly and I’m rather cold, having _nothing_ to keep me warm, so I’ll be taking your shirt, servant.” 

He removed the article of clothing gently, tenderly, taking the time to run his fingers over shoulders and down his demon’s back as it fell from his torso, revealing an improved version of Michelangelo’s David and leaving Ciel in stunned silence. He left the shirt unbuttoned after putting it on, and being several sizes too large, it draped his body quite comfortably. Once he sat back in the chair where Sebastian had initially found him, he put his feet up, held the plate in his lap and finally found his voice, “Entertain me.”

The demon ran his tongue over the top row of razored teeth, nostrils flaring as he scented the bittersweetness of Ciel’s blood mingling with the honeyed fruitiness of the dessert. He inhaled deeply as the challenging order came and breathed the habitual reply on the husky exhale, “Yes, my lord.”

He spread his knees, planted his feet firmly on the lacquered oak flooring and bowed forward. His unmarked hand adjusted its grip on his cock, squeezing lightly while he rested the forearm laxly on his thigh, shifting his position on the cushioned daybed. His smoldering scarlet stare bore into Ciel through the damp, clumped strands of his inky hair and he growled lowly through clenched teeth as his fist pumped over his erection at a torturous pace. His blood surged and his skin shivered, echoes of pleasure ricocheting through his body, not as intense as it could be, but it was satisfying enough to know his master was watching.

Ciel made a concerted effort to avert his gaze, not wanting to give the demon the satisfaction of knowing how his guttural sounds and the unhurried strokes were unnerving him. Less than a minute in and he was already losing the game he’d instigated. He swallowed thickly, wetting his lips before he took a small bite of the tart, moaning in delight at its bittersweet flavour. “Good work Sebastian, this tastes even better than it looks,” he said his voice huskier than intended.

Sebastian growled ferally in frustration as Ciel averted his gaze stubbornly, made such lascivious sounds while savouring a godforsaken sweet. It made him seethe inside, desperate to retaliate, to dominate and possess, and monopolize Ciel’s full attention. If Ciel wanted to play games, Sebastian was unaccustomed to losing. 

He leaned back, lifted his unoccupied hand and brought the back to his lips. He pressed his mouth to the branded contract there, lips brushing over the symbols as a silkily whispered command in Aramaic slipped between them, “ _Feel me lover._ ”

As soon as the words had washed over the mark, electricity spread, numbing his fingertips. The hold on his cock firmed, lingered beneath the weeping head while the pad of his thumb ran over the tip and around its ridge while he arched, head tilting to the side to bare the left side of his throat. His marked hand ever so slowly followed along the pale column, not touching until he’d reached his jaw, fingertips barely kissing the damp, smooth skin, searing despite their numbed state. He watched Ciel from hooded depths as his own touches, far gentler than his contrasting grip because they weren’t meant for him, but for his master. Painted fingertips caressed along his neck, over the sharp protrusion of his collar, down his chest to tease at a nipple and he knew he’d succeeded in gaining the young man’s undivided attention as Ciel’s breath hitched sharply and he arched so suddenly, he dropped the tart altogether. 

It was only when he heard the plate clatter to the floor that Ciel opened his eyes, unknowingly having shut them in the first place when he had felt the ghosting of fingers upon his neck and down his chest. The sensation struck him as odd considering his hands were gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly, his knuckles went white. His own glower met the inhuman, satisfied and feral smirk of the demon; suddenly the family moniker of _pet_ that he had held for Sebastian for so many years seemed fitting once again. 

He considered tending to the tart that had broken apart on the floor as he rose from his seat, but he would leave it for the servant when he was done playing his game. One thing was for certain though, whatever game he was playing, he would be doing so alone, or at least without the pleasure of seeing how he was wrecking the teen. Ciel made to walk out of the room stoically, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of his lover; fate, it seemed, had resolutely decided that his leaving with any dignity wasn’t meant to be when he was forced to clutch the doorframe to steady himself as a wanton moan escaped his lips.

Sebastian hummed appreciatively in response to Ciel’s moan, watched him as he attempted to escape. He couldn’t have that, not after he’d been made to wait so long already, and certainly not after his master’s order. The grip on his cock stilled at its base and his toes flexed against the floor with the surprising effort it took to stop. The caressing of his other hand continued, pinching at the peaked nipple, watching the shudder that wracked through his master as Ciel sagged heavily against the frame of the doorway. His fingers slid away from his chest, down over the smooth musculature of his taut and fluttering belly, tickling around his navel, lower, lingering to thumb over the bone at his hip, shifted his legs further apart, and leaned back even further. 

He released the grip on his cock altogether, to support himself on his elbow, sprawling languidly back against the cushioning of the daybed, head lolling onto his shoulder lazily. His fingertips migrated from his hip to his inner thigh, ghosting along the softness, imagining it was his master’s, but pleased to know that Ciel could feel it as if it was. “Are you so afraid to enjoy the performance that you would flee my lord? Is it not to your _satisfaction_?” he purred as the pale digits climbed higher, lightly raking soot-stained nails along the smooth skin as they made their way to his thick and aching arousal, fluttering along the heavy sac beneath before teasingly trailing along the underside of his cock to its slick and angrily flushed tip. 

Ciel grit his teeth against the onslaught of sensation and pushed himself from the door frame, walking unsteadily as though drunk, towards the foyer. As he had suspected, no amount of distance he put between himself and the servant would lessen this bond. There was literally nowhere he could go. To silence himself, he bit his bottom lip so hard, he thought it would be scarred by the indents left by his canines; but it made no difference, the mouth could make noise without lips having to part, “Mmmmmm…” Frustrated, he hit the wall with the side of his fist, hoping that at least the pain would distract him from the fondling that had him wanting to beckon Sebastian to come do the thing properly. “Ahh… ssss… sssssss,” he covered his mouth, preventing himself from telling Sebastian to stop, partly because he didn't want to lose the game, but also because he craved the sensation, because it gave the lewdest of previews for what Sebastian would be capable of if Ciel simply relented and let him have his way. 

His servant had been wrong though, Ciel wasn't fleeing, he was arming himself; and for what he needed to do, he would have to allow himself to properly experience what was being done, to let the groans, pants and whines freely leave his mouth. If he was lucky, it would arouse the demon to the point of failing to notice the sounds of a vial of holy water and a silken braided rope being removed from his master’s carryall. 

“Mmmmmm… Seb-Sebas…” He tore the stopper out of the bottle with his teeth between moans and poured the water over the length of the rope, not caring that his hands were being soaked in the process.

He had no idea how far Sebastian planned on taking this game, and the thought that he had finally found an equal, no, a superior to play with aroused him almost as much as his pet’s grip on the underside of his throbbing erection. Getting back to his feet, he removed his underwear, now sopping from his intense arousal and he strung the blessed rope around his neck as he made his way back to the study.

Sebastian chuckled huskily when Ciel returned, his gaze traveling up the young man’s now entirely bared legs to the shirttails that obscured, but didn’t entirely hide the rosy flush of his obvious erection, providing tantalizing glimpses of the flesh. But that wasn’t what had caused his humour. His gaze narrowed on the rope draped around the nape of Ciel’s neck and followed the droplets of what he surmised through its chloric scent was holy water that dripped from it to dampen the fabric of his master’s borrowed clothing. He slowly, torturously rubbed the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, fully aware that Ciel could feel every delicious sensation it provided as he drawled amusedly, “Sweet naive little butterfly, I’m much too old for _that_ to deter me.”

He’d been born long before the son of God, before the birth of Christianity and all its factions, before Moses and the commandments even. As one of the seven, he’d been there through all of it and no holy article or bit of blessed agua was going to do more than mildly irritate him, nothing more than a tiny pebble in his shoe.

Ciel doubled over, hands on thighs and glared at Sebastian from beneath his bangs as his cock dripped precum onto the floor. “It’s not for you, my pet. The rope is for me,” he panted. He got on his knees, facing away from the demon, but not before slinging the blessed object onto Sebastian’s sweat-glistened chest. The disappointment he felt when it merely earned him a chuckle rather than a hiss was not nearly as great as the pleasure he was about to deny himself. “If you’re going to possess my body like a _common demon_ , at least have the courtesy of binding my hands behind my head, so that I am not tempted to have an active role in your game.” He brought his arms up and over his head, waiting for his order to be carried out.

Sebastian clicked his tongue, leaned forward while he gripped the base of his cock roughly, reveling in the heavily exhaled whine that came from the young man’s lips, though it would have been better if he’d been allowed to see his face. He loomed over Ciel’s back, his unoccupied hand hovering over the young man’s skin, ghosting, but not making contact. The rope steamed as it blackened, became silken ribbon and slithered about the offered delicate wrists, weaving and binding as it went. 

The demon smiled and breathed over the nape of the young man’s neck while he kneaded the base of his cock almost tenderly, slowly drawing his marked fist upwards and down again. “I don’t need to possess you, even if I could. You _invited_ me to play this game little lover. Teased and taunted me when I spoke my truths… I can’t lie to you, but you lie to yourself… I’ll take the blame for wetting your beautiful wings butterfly, but you’re the one that bound them,” his words were like hot silk as they washed along the damp skin on the back of Ciel’s nape, curling like smoke around his ear, unmarked hand still caressing along the fine lines of his master’s body, still not touching, but his skin was hot enough to be felt even through the fabric of Ciel’s clothing. “Now that you have your alibis and excuses, I’m going to take some liberties since I’m playing the role of villain,” he finished in a husky near whisper, a purr beneath the lilting tone as the apparel melted entirely from Ciel’s form, bearing the soft, milky expanse of his back and delicate, plump curve of his naked rear to Sebastian’s starved predatory gaze.

The hot breath on his nape and the hands ghosting over Ciel’s body made the tiniest of hairs stand on end as Sebastian hovered and made himself insufferably desirable. He had regretted being bound the moment he felt the silk thread its way around his wrists; not being able to grab the demon's head and guide his mouth exactly to where he was aching was proving to be as torturous as the amount of time it was taking Sebastian to get himself off. He had expected that given his level of arousal, things would have progressed much quicker. Ciel bowed his head, and with being on his knees, it looked as though he were praying for forgiveness- for starting the stupid game, for failing at it so miserably...

Keeping his head down, Ciel internally accepted his defeat, but did not want to go quietly. “You might not lie _lover_ , but that doesn’t make you, hah... honest.” The kneeling figure knew he must have hit a nerve when the grip on his weeping cock tightened and accelerated, “You could, for instance, control your response by not telling me the whole… ahhh... story, like with that bitch reaper…” Aggressiveness coursed through his body as he swallowed and took shallow breaths. He shut his eyes to avoid looking at his length as he felt his left thigh dampen, “Fuck… and... You omit details, Sebastian… like neglecting to tell me you can… God damn it… do this to me… Mmm… without touching me.” His eyes snapped open, shutting them had been a stupid idea, it just intensified the sensation. He cast his eyes to the ceiling instead, “Ahhhh... God Almighty, you… Fuck… you exaggerate…” Ciel felt the tears run down his cheeks, his pleasure mounting and twisting in his gut as he tried to reason with the demon. “You call me _lover_... Oh God!...” he growled, using the Creator’s name more often in the last minute than he had in years “…You don’t even know what love is…” Ciel burst into laughter as the tears kept flowing, ecstasy taking over, “You don’t want a,” the teen shuddered, “ _lover_ , you want a fuck…”

Sebastian cocked his head in a decidedly feline manner, listening. He licked his lips, inhaled deeply the bittersweetness of Ciel’s arousal and his denial. His voice was lower, feral like it was in his true form. “Mm, you are mistaken… I want _you_ butterfly and only you… As for love… I don’t think it holds the same meaning for you as it does for me… My kind aren’t generally inclined to be made so vulnerable… We don’t… _trust_ love much,” the demon paused, hand speeding in its motions, lewd wet noises sounding, gripped firmly and twisting his wrist on each upward draw, breathing ragged, but he would meet his end only when he chose to. The pace and hold of his hand on his cock was for Ciel’s benefit alone; he desperately wanted him unraveled. It’d be better if his butterfly were spread beneath him, if he could feel it from the inside while he took Ciel apart piece by piece, but he would be patient. He had a whole year; it’d be worth the wait. 

He understood what it was Ciel was not saying, what he was meaning in his resistance. Ciel wanted trust, honesty… His butterfly wanted his weaknesses as well as his strengths. Odd that… When Ciel had amended the contract, it hadn’t been a desire, but a prayer… 

“Ask me if I could love you,” he murmured gutturally and his unoccupied hand finally made contact, slid around from Ciel’s back and tenderly wrapped around his throat, coaxing his head back so he could speak directly into the young man’s ear while whimpers and harsh breath escaped through Ciel’s abused lips, “Ask me if I will.”

Ciel shook his head, his tears running down his face and onto the demon’s hand. He couldn’t stop their flow if he tried; they were tears of ecstatic delirium. It was embarrassing enough for him to be coming apart like this, he wouldn’t shame himself further to have what had been subconscious desire thrown back in his face. "Ahhh… End this… Fuck… I can’t… God damn you...” He craned his neck, a final concession, he told himself. If he would not give in to the demon’s request, he would ask for, and not order a simple pleasure of the servant. His chest heaving, he moistened and parted his lips, begged and pleaded with his eyes, “K-Kiss me… Sebastian, please…”

Sebastian’s lashes veiled his dilated sanguine eyes and his hand slid beneath Ciel’s jaw, guiding his head to the side, taking in the almost pained expression of pleasure on the young man’s face appreciatively. “You beg so pretty butterfly, how can I refuse?” he whispered huskily, squeezing at the base of his cock a moment as he pressed in closely and closer still. He took Ciel’s mouth with such sudden ferocity, unable to control himself since his master had offered so endearingly. He could have refused him, but he had been dying for a taste and he couldn’t have him as he truly wanted him just yet, but a kiss could be a foundation for that eventuality. 

His lips were soft and hot, tongue hotter, wicked, teasing and brutal in its assault, truly skilled as he devoured Ciel’s mouth, swallowing his sounds and stealing his breath. And his hand moved again, swift and forceful, inhuman in its pressure and its pace. He arched, growling ferally into the kiss as he finally released the tourniquet he’d carefully been keeping on his own relief, aware that for Ciel, the sensation would be explosive. His body pulsed as waves of heat washed through him, electric, searing and so damned satisfying. His muscles became taut, perspiration glittering on the ethereal skin as he came, painting Ciel’s back with pearly ribbons of release. He shuddered and razored teeth nicked Ciel’s bowed lips and he moaned low and primal in his chest as the sweet flavour of his master’s blood graced his tongue again.

Hungry; Ciel was so hungry for Sebastian, even though it was the demon who was devouring _him_. He arched his back into the kiss, whimpering sharply, never having felt something so divine as the demon’s mouth clamped onto his own. His nails dug so deeply into his own forearms behind his head, that he felt the blood trickle down the length of his arms and onto his fingertips. He inhaled violently, pulling in air erratically, groaning and loving the powerful feel of Sebastian’s phantom limb squeezing the base of his cock almost painfully, so tightly he knew the moment its hold slacked in the least that he would explode. 

His body was craving release and the moment he felt the sensation of cum on his back, running down, thick and warm, along with the echoing of Sebastian’s pleasure, he sucked in a deep breath, and screamed himself raw as pulses of his climax rocked him and spilled onto his lap.

The devil hummed his approval and boldly mouthed at Ciel’s arched neck as the young man found his peak, shuddering and screaming, voice breaking hoarsely under the weight of his pleasure. “Exquisite,” Sebastian commented, lips brushing over sweat sweetened skin. He held Ciel back against him, steadying the shaky youth as he went limp in the aftermath of his orgasm, jerking with aftershocks in his demon’s arms.

The soft ribbon faded from Ciel’s wrists and Sebastian moved with easy grace to cradle his master in his arms and lift him up, ignoring the incoherent half-hearted protests from his precious little lover. He took him into the bathroom, wiped him down tenderly, cleansed away the evidence of what he’d done, though Sebastian could still smell it on him, a fine dust of desire that settled on the young man’s skin, mingling pleasantly with the claim he’d left on him. He hummed a quiet, haunting tune as he rubbed away the marks left from the ribbon and cleaned the blood from the scratches on his master’s forearms, careful and gentle with him. Such a delicate, precious butterfly… He smiled to himself, even if his lover was an obstinate little thing.

In his demon’s arms and under his diligent care, Ciel understood how so many people mistook lust for love. He cringed internally at how he himself was walking the fine line between the two, liable to tip one way or the other in such a vulnerable state. The only thing that kept him firmly grounded was the fear of rejection, of being taken in by his pet; being fed words of tenderness the same way cattle were fattened up only to be slaughtered and consumed in the end. It had already been established that _love_ held different meanings for both of them, and while Ciel was a good translator, he was less than confident in trying to decipher what it was that Sebastian may or may not feel towards him. However, now that he wasn’t in the midst of a lust-induced trance, he would be better able to detect the bitter false notes of insincerity, wouldn’t he? “Could you love me?” he asked, remembering the demon’s words, and then adding, “Would you?”

Sebastian’s russet gaze met Ciel’s, no longer alight with the blazing fire that had turned them inhuman in his lust, but back to their usual warm ochered wine colour. They were warm, unguarded and full of promise, a simmering of desire deeply imbued in the hue, though it was far from the inferno it had been. He cupped Ciel’s cheek with his marked hand, thumbing over the velvety porcelain of his skin in a decidedly affectionate gesture. “I can. I will. I’ve always favoured you, always watched you my butterfly even before you became mine,” he responded, unable to be dishonest in the face of such pointed inquiries and deciding to reward the young man with more than he’d asked for. He’d always had a fondness for Ciel, since his birth, had always held a sort of possessive interest in him and had found solace during his confinement in the fact that he would someday belong to and consume the last Phantomhive, his favoured one. 

Ciel leaned into the demon’s marked hand, unaccustomed to being touched so tenderly, so delicately by anyone save for his mother and though he had been surrounded by servants most of his life, none had ever been so devoted. His body felt weary, drained; the exertion of their game finally catching up to him as his eyelashes fluttered against the warm hand that lovingly cradled his face. 

The closer he came to unconsciousness, the more his memories of the family pet became vivid, recollections he didn’t even know he had. Of being watched, of being appraised, and at night, hearing the same haunting melody the demon hummed, through from inside his own head. 

He yawned, “My legs are still numb from kneeling such a prolonged time, Sebastian, and it’s all your fault, for having delayed your own gratification for such an extended period.” The corner of Ciel’s mouth pulled up, knowing that the delay had been for his own pleasure, “You can make it up to me by carrying me to bed and joining me for a nap.”

Sebastian didn't even attempt to hide his broad smile, ruffling Ciel's damp hair fondly, "Yes, my lord." He picked him back up, holding him in a firm, protective embrace against his hard chest and carrying him to the bedroom he'd prepared for him previously. 

The sheets turned themselves down for them and he climbed into the bed with Ciel still in his arms, settled back against the cushioned headboard and cradled the exhausted young man to his breast. Black painted fingers stroked through the soft navy dark hair on Ciel's head and he resumed his husky humming lullaby. He tilted his head a bit to press a kiss to his lover's brow as Ciel's long dark lashes fluttered closed. "Sweet dreams my butterfly, I'll watch over you," he murmured against his skin before he leaned back against the headboard, adjusting his hold on the youth in his arms and closing his eyes. Sebastian didn’t join Ciel in slumber; demons didn't _need_ to sleep. His low humming started up again moments later and he resumed stroking his master's hair while he slept and like always, Sebastian watched over him, though the light in his eyes was not so cold as if had once been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Scenes that didn't make it into this chapter :) 
> 
> *Scene Five “Watcher” (Ciel’s study) Take one*
> 
>  
> 
> _(camera pans out)_
> 
>  
> 
> _(Sebastian sitting on the daybed, dick in hand)_
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel:** Until I can believe what you say, you’ll be on your own to find your release; well, not completely, I’ll sit here and watch. _(poor attempt to repress a smirk and swiftly exits stage left, speaking over his shoulder)_ Don’t start now; first let me fetch myself a piece of the tart to have with this tea while I watch your show. You see, I’m craving something honey-glazed, and your tart will be sufficient to satisfy my… shit. 
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel drops the first piece of tart on the floor, looks around in embarrassment and pretends it didn’t happen. Takes a second piece and turns back towards Sebastian who is still holding his dick and looking between Ciel and the mess on the floor.)_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Sebastian:** I’m not cleaning that up even if you order me._
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _Cut!_  
>   
> 
>  
> 
> _*Scene Five “Watcher” (Ciel’s study) Take four*_
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _(Ciel slips on the holy water in the other room)_  
>   
> 
> _**Ciel:** Don't fucking get up to help me or anything!_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Sebastian (completely unapologetic):** I don't see you doing anything to help keep my dick hard…_
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _Cut!_  
>   
> 
>  
> 
> _*Scene Five “Watcher” (Ciel’s study) Take Nine*_
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _(Sebastian misspeaks to his hand and can't seem to get it to work only to realize he has control of Ciel’s limbs like a puppet, spending several minutes having the boy swat and grope himself while Ciel curses him explicitly)_  
>   
> 
> _**Sebastian (with control of Ciel's limbs while he looms over his backside):** Tell me you wanna be a real boy. And don't lie 'cause it's not my nose that'll grow._
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _(Ciel’s curses get more creative)_  
>   
> 
> __  
> _Cut!_  
> 


	6. Providence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the story: Beware the green-eyed monster.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Bigmouth Strikes Again by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4VgEu1jkEU&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=78&shuffle=21693)  
> Ciel~ [Devil Devil by Milck](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEMrDXP8vs4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the kudos and supportive comments. Enjoy this update!

Andromalius strode down the ancient halls of the Borgia Tower, wringing his hands as the flesh of his host body tore itself painfully away from the cuticles. Father Gerald of St-Peter’s Bethnal Green Church was growing weak, tired and almost ineffectual. He was weary with sleep after an uncomfortable overnight flight, had been deprived of food for days and was starting to leave a distinct rotting stench wherever he lingered too long. Declining attendance was nothing new among North American Catholic churches, but since his possession of the priest and his neglect of the host, attendance was at an all-time low at his diocese. 

He paced outside the large wooden door at the north-end of the tower, wiping the sweat from Father Gerald’s brow as he ran through the details of his report in his mind. Before he could bring his knuckles up to knock, a light and airy feminine voice came through the door with perfect clarity.

“Quit dawdling Andy, I could smell you as soon as you arrived, you know how I abhor waiting,” the tall, pale, slender figure called airily, slim fingers brushing deep russet strands of straight hair back behind a soft, rounded ear and he waved his other idly. The door opened of its own accord to admit one of his many little birds, Andromalius into the room. Amber eyes peered over one dark clad shoulder and rouged plump lips curled into a frown of distaste, nose wrinkling. “Good lord you smell like rot. You really should take better care Andy,” he said pleasantly in spite of the insulting words. 

He heaved a sigh and opened the window before him while the door clicked shut behind the ghastly looking form of the possessed priest. Belial seemed to float over to the nearby lacquered wood table and seated himself on its edge, crossing his legs demurely, smoothing out the wrinkles in the white and plum coloured robes he was adorned in. He looked up at the fidgeting animated corpse after several long silent seconds and raised a finely sculpted brow expectantly. “Well, get on with it,” he prompted impatiently, voicing rising slightly in pitch as his irritation rose. He had been waiting for ages to hear about his _favourite_ little brother

Andromalius prostrated himself on the bare floor of the office before the Bishop, reverently kissing the cross buckles of the ankle boot-clad feet. His lips burned upon contact, hissing and smoking as he whined and wailed in ecstatic enjoyment. Sickly jaundiced eyes looked up from where he lay, shame wrecking his body at his unsightliness, especially in the presence of such resplendence, “Master, the traitor has been released from his cage and was accompanied by the new Phantomhive to the address you provided. They entered together, but Asmodeus left on his own, long before the handsome lad did.” He watched the impassive face, wondering if his master was waiting for more detail or whether his account was not yet of interest. “My lord, even though he had consumed the Senior Phantomhive’s soul and another hundred and three at the exorcism, he still reeked of a hunger so intense that I had to will myself to stay in the vicinity, fearful that I too would be consumed.” The very thought of it had Andromalius quivering at the unholy feet. “T’was not a usual hunger, Master; it was barely detectable upon their arrival, but once they had purged the host body of Balban, the exorcist’s _slave_ appeared to be driven mad with desire.”

Belial made a quiet sound of displeasure, lips twisting in distaste. What had they done to his lovely little brother? Asmodeus had always been his favourite. The second prince of Hell had always had a particular proclivity for the carnality of the flesh and Asmodeus was the purest embodiment of such pleasures. Belial had never had the opportunity to experience them with his favoured brother before he’d been shackled by the Phantomhive family. It was such a pity and when Lucifer had approached him some years ago to pursue their traitorous kin, he had eagerly accepted. 

He had his own interests at heart, hardly cared that the rest of their brethren wanted to tear Asmodeus to shreds and devour him slowly as punishment for all he’d done against them in the name of their holy enemy. He wanted him for himself, would bind the other demon to him as soon as the contract he was entrapped in was up. His position would allow him to do so before the others had their chance and he would be able to keep the other demon as his mate and let him live. It was so close now, he could almost taste it, but the nasty little harlot of the Phantomhive legacy was poisoning his lovely Asmodeus against him.

He tapped manicured nails, glamoured to appear the proper fleshy tone of humans though they were stained with soot as all the high ranked of their kind were, against his thigh and hissed a breath through his sharp teeth. His eyes were liquid gold in his irritation and he blinked slowly at his servant. “I see, and after? You _did_ follow to observe the aftermath, did you not?” he responded, melodic voice threaded with envy and malicious intent.

Father Gerald’s back was breaking under the pressure of having to contort and arch himself unnaturally to meet his master’s gaze. The cracking of his spine, one vertebrae at a time, could be heard from outside the office and down the hall as each snap sounded like a gunshot. “Rest assured, I did follow, my lord, though I was not the only one. The reaper Grell Sutcliff also caught the scent of the traitor and going by his excitement, it was none too difficult a task to convince him to do away with the Phantomhive brat if he wanted his time with Asmodeus.” It was only now that the face of the broken father showed any sign of discomfort or disgust; as blood pooled in his mouth, and ran down the side when he opened it to speak. “That was clever of me, wasn’t it my lord? It’s better to have your brother defile a reaper than a filthy Phantomhive,” he turned his head to the side and spat, blood spattering on the black boots of his master, “Imagine if _that_ got around, as though your royal lineage hasn’t suffered enough embarrassment.” 

Andromalius could feel the host dying, could hear him screaming from inside, reciting his own last rites. He ignored the tormented howls of agony and continued with his report, fearing he would be delayed in its delivery if he had to seek out a new host. “But it did no good. The young coward who holds your brother’s contract called out for his protector and not long after that…” he swallowed and bowed his head in contrition, “After that, I’m not sure what occured since once the lad and Asmodeus were reunited, the frustration, want and need became so crushingly overwhelming that I was forced to take nine mortals to sate my own desire.”

Belial bared his teeth in disgust, waved a dainty hand dismissively, not at all wanting to hear about Andromalius’ escapades in his reeking body. His angry jealousy in regards to the clear implication that Asmodeus had allowed the little Phantomhive whore to taste him, had desired him in the least made heated rage twist viciously in his guts, but his outward demeanor remained calm. He just had to be patient. He’d have his chance to rid his intended of the mortal parasite in just a year’s time, barely anything at all. Even so, it burned him. 

He turned his head away from the sallow visage of the priest and growled under his breath, fingernails digging into the wood of the table beneath him hard enough to leave marks in its stain. “Get out. I need to make a call. And for the love of the unholy son, clean yourself up before I send for you next,” he commanded, not looking back at his servant, rosy lips pursed in annoyance, mind on the _call_ to his elder brother he was inclined to make. And he was already maliciously considering the next little excursion he would send for his future mate and his little bug; Asmodeus couldn’t forfeit the boy’s life while he under contract, but that didn’t mean Belial couldn’t make him suffer.

***

Ciel sat in his father’s old wingback leather chair, behind the desk and half-asleep, his face slumped against the cold window pane that had been spotted in routine London raindrops. He’d spent the past six hours on the telephone with florists, with long-distance relations from Russia, England, France and the U.S., with ground crews to arrange for a new plot to be dug up on the estate as well as with a monumental mason to prepare a new tombstone. It had been tiring, emotionally draining, but not in the way most people would think. He knew his father’s death had been imminent, knew it the moment he came back home; it was actually one of the reasons he had delayed his trip, though not because he was attached, it was more for his mother’s benefit.

Ciel slid further down the window onto his open hand and he unconsciously gave a soft snore, then a sigh, his breath ruffling his bangs in the process. His mother… how was it that he had been able to contact six-eight relatives and associates but not his mother? Was she avoiding him? Did she hate him for having inadvertently killed his father? He mumbled incoherently into his arm as it sagged onto the desk, his head finding a comfortable position in the crook of his elbow.

He should have gone home to make the arrangements, it would have been much easier, he could have had the servants take care of the details… but he wouldn’t be going back anytime soon. Might even skip the funeral, especially if his mother did. He had no attachment to his former home. Did not want to be reminded of his part in his father’s death, though he was much more disturbed by the thought of his lover having spent several generations a captive, while he played, and studied and lived in the lap of luxury. It made him sick to think of Sebastian having been denied and of having to curb his appetites; it was so _inhumane_. Some days had passed since their intimate game, and it had only intensified their bond. Ciel was now developing a faint awareness of his lover’s state of mind as though they were empathetically linked, “Mmm… mmm… Seb…” he mumbled into his arm as he slept.

Sebastian cocked his head from where he was preparing a late lunch for his young master. He could smell something. It was something familiar, vague though in his mind. Where did he know it from. He jerked abruptly when he felt a mild tugging through his bond with Ciel. It wasn’t urgent, but his young master was wishing he was closer; such an adorable little butterfly. He fought so hard to pretend he was not the needy little thing he was, tried so hard to hide his affection and interest, so stubborn, but so cute.

There was another wash of the familiar flowery scent and his eyes widened slightly, sudden recognition dawning in the auburn depths and he growled softly under his breath. He swiftly dried his hands and was at the young master’s study, a single knock preluding his entrance into the room. He immediately stepped over towards the startled young man.

“My lord, your cousin, Lady Elizabeth has arrived for an unexpected visit,” he warned, reaching to ruffle the sleepy-eyed young man’s hair, an unconscious, fond smile tugging at his mouth even as he spoke the unappealing news. 

He was leaning in as if to kiss the young man when the door suddenly burst open, thudding against the wall behind it and rattling the items on the bookshelves closest to it. He growled under his breath as twenty year old Elizabeth Midford came charging into the room squealing shrilly in excitement.

Lizzie came to an abrupt stop and blinked too wide blue eyes owlishly at the two men, taking in the position they were in. The raven haired man with the unique coloured eyes straightened up and pursed his lips, but remained silent, staring at her coldly. She raised her brows and a sly glint entered her cornflower eyes; she’d so obviously interrupted something. Oh, her favourite cousin was so going to be spilling everything as soon as she had him on his own. 

 

“Ciel, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in London? Why are you even here when your father… Oh I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about it,” she said, placing her hands on her denim clad hips, her billowy peasant shirt moving as she did.

Sebastian cleared his throat, brushed nonexistent wrinkles from the charcoal grey turtleneck and black slacks he was currently adorned in, much more casual than the servant garb he had previously been wearing. Ciel had made mention that he drew too much attention dressed in such a manner and so he had been attempting to better assimilate himself with the human populace. If he was to be at Ciel’s side at near all times and would not be returning to his cage, he would need to get used to the modern stylings. Thus far, he had not seemed to be doing too poorly a job of it. 

“I’ll return shortly with lunch for you and your guest,” he bid before he turned stiffly on his heel and disappeared down the corridor to resume preparing the meal, trying not to consider what the girl wanted. Lady Elizabeth from what he remembered observing of her had an unhealthy interest in his butterfly, had since the were children. He was sure she had machinations on stealing Ciel from him, however irrational the suspicion was; it didn’t matter because he was convinced he wasn’t wrong. She was always so _affectionate_ with Ciel.

Ciel gaped at Sebastian as he left the room, walking a little too rigidly as he went. What was that all about? He usually moved so fluidly, his movements liable to break any dancer’s heart. Still, watching the demon exit a room was not the worst sight he’d ever seen given how perfectly Sebastian had been able to configure his appearance to Ciel’s specific aesthetic ideals.

He heard Lizzie clear her throat and he tore his attention from his lover’s backside. Clutching his left eye over his long fringe, Ciel immediately turned his back to his cousin and to the desk, to slip his eyepatch back on. His fingers slid under the strings that held it in place, pulling and flattening the hair at the back and sides of his head. A rare smile stretched across his face as he took in his cousin and held his arms out to her, “Are you just going to stand there looking beautiful or are you going to give me some love?”

Lizzie returned the grin with one of her own and immediately threw herself at her cousin, squeezing him tightly. “It’s been way too long since we last got to see each other face to face,” she said as she rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. She loosened her grip on him after a moment and sat back on the edge of his desk, kicking her legs and looking at him with mischief in her eyes. 

“How were the Italian boys? Or should I say men? Did you bring the one making lunch home with you? I bet your father was furious,” she said teasingly, knowing well how strained her cousin’s relationship was with her uncle. Uncle Vincent and Ciel had never seemed to see eye to eye on anything; it hadn’t been a surprise that he had been disappointed in his son’s apparent orientation. 

Lizzie had known from the time they were thirteen. He’d crawled into her bed one night while they had been vacationing at his parents’ summer home and he’d whispered his darkest secrets to her there like they had so many times through their childhood. It had hurt because she had always loved him, always hoped someday he would be more than just her best friend and cousin, but her lover and that dream had been shattered. But she had bitten back the sadness the revelation invoked in her and instead had decided to take solace that she would at least never lose him to another woman. She could always be by his side as his closest confidant; she would see him happy and that was enough. She’d moved on since then, but their friendship had only grown stronger, even with whole countries between them.

His father had been furious, alright, Ciel thought. Furious that his son had put off his dynastic duty, that he had dragged his feet coming home, that he had taken to the demon his father had kept caged for years. 

He strode over to his cousin, index finger on his lips with one hand, and pointing outside the room with the other. He needed to buy himself some time, he really had no idea what to tell Lizzie; he usually told her _everything_ and she was perceptive enough that she would notice if he tried to lie to her. He would have to come up with something close enough to the truth. 

“I’ve been in this room all day, let me go get changed and we’ll go out for lunch.” He at least wanted to be out of his lover’s earshot if he was going to be interrogated by his cousin. Taking Lizzie’s hand in his own, as he had done thousands of times before, he led her to his chambers and shut the door. “Grab me some pants and a shirt, will you?” he said, stripping behind the privacy screen and throwing his clothes over top. When he stood there in his underwear, listening to Lizzie going through his dresser, he was chagrined by the thought of leaving the demon behind. He wanted him nearby, felt fragmented without him, “I’ll ask Sebastian to serve lunch on the rooftop terrace, I think the gazebo is still set up there.”

Lizzie passed the clothing to her cousin idly, “So his name’s Sebastian then? Is he your _assistant_?” she asked casually, intrigued and keeping her inquiries fairly tame for the moment since he’d already silenced her once. She had no doubt he would tell her, but he obviously wanted to be somewhere more private. 

Ciel put on the artfully faded blue jeans that Lizzie had handed him and came around the privacy screen as he tugged on a white v-neck t-shirt, “This is pretty casual, don’t you think?” he said, cocking his hip and arching his right eyebrow. He had forgotten how easy it was to be with Lizzie, how accepting she was of him, how she hid absolutely nothing from him. It wasn’t that they didn’t argue, they did, quarreled like an old married couple, but he trusted that if something bothered her, she would tell him. He should do her the courtesy of doing the same. “I suppose you could say he’s my assistant,” he told her, leading her out of the bedroom and down the hall as he popped his head into the kitchen where Sebastian kept his back turned to him even though Ciel was sure he’d heard him approach. “Sebastian, could you please bring lunch to the terrace, oh and bring the 2008 Valpolicella Ripasso.”

The demon didn’t turn to look at Ciel, knowing that his eyes were not the least bit human in his state of stubbornly unvoiced possessive jealousy. “Yes, my lord,” he replied quietly, voice low, rougher than he’d meant for it to be and he busied himself with placing the petite balsamic goat cheese bruschetta medallions in the oven. He growled to himself under his breath and cursed when he could hear Elizabeth’s giggle down the hall when Ciel took his leave again. He slammed things around, taking out his frustrations on the cookware so that he wouldn’t be tempted to unleash it on the young woman instead. He knew that Ciel would not stray from him, was already caught and had never shown any romantic interest in response to hers as far as he could recall, but it didn’t lessen his irrational ire towards the girl in the slightest.

Lizzie linked her arm with Ciel’s as they walked the corridor to the lift that would take them to the roof veranda, grinning all the while. “So this assistant of yours, is it serious between the two of you?” she asked with a knowing look behind her clear blue eyes.

Ciel decidedly did not answer until they were up the stairs that lead to the outside. It had stopped raining, and a mix of sun and shadows filtered through the pergola with the climbing vines where they found the outdoor seating area. The young man tore the protective covering from the furniture, and stuffed them into a nearby outdoor storage box before seating himself at the end of the sofa, waiting for Lizzie to join him. When she sat next to him, he pulled her towards him and she rested her head on his lap, putting her feet up at the other end of the sofa, toeing her shoes off. He carded his fingers through her silky blonde hair as she looked up at him, her eyes lit with curiosity. Wind chimes rang, but not haphazardly; it was as though they were playing a familiar haunting tune. He blushed, though his cousin would misinterpret the colour in his face when he answered her. “I dunno Lizzie. Father introduced us, clearly not with the intent of it ever developing into something more than a working relationship. If i’m completely honest, it’s probably very one-sided.”

Lizzie giggled softly. “Oh I dunno about that. He seemed pretty interested from where I was standing when I arrived. Have you and he… You know, gotten horizontal?” she said with a wicked little curl to her lips, reaching up to tug on a lock of his midnight hair playfully.

Ciel snorted, “Can you blame him for being interested, just look at me… I ooze virginity.” He hadn’t responded directly, but he hadn’t exactly _lied_ either. They hadn’t been _horizontal_ as she had so elegantly put it; perhaps they had been vertical, though not in the way she meant. He walked his fingers lovingly down her face and throat and to her collar where he fingered the ring she wore on her necklace. “You still wear this thing, huh? Worried if someone saw it on your finger that they would assume you were promised to some lucky heir?”

Lizzie laughed brightly, eyes twinkling as she answered, "Well yes, the modern woman needs to keep her options open. And don't change the subject you sneak. I wanna know more about tall, dark and dangerous. You're holding out on me; I can tell. Tell me you've at least seen him naked." She could tell he wasn't telling her everything, purposely being vague and trying to act nonchalant. She knew what she'd seen when she barged into his study. His _assistant_ had been about to kiss him. She'd been disappointed she hadn't arrived just a minute after to witness it. Ciel definitely wasn't telling her the whole story and she would ferret the details out.

Ciel’s foot tapped nervously against the ground and he laughed as it made Lizzie’s head bounce. “Fine, I’ve seen him naked okay, just not in the way you think!” He couldn’t exactly come out and tell her when it had first happened, what would her mind conjure up at the imagery of the beautiful demon in the basement… on second thought, Ciel was pretty sure she was just taking the piss out of him, “He was in a cage, and it was glorious.” He felt his eyes widen at the thought of his first appraisal of Sebastian, how he had teased him, taunted him with all that naked flesh…

Lizzie’s brows shot up and she mock-gasped, “Nooo... You’re teasing me, aren’t you? You must be. You said your father introduced you… Oh my god, is he a criminal? And you’ve seen him naked, did you touch _it_? Was it big? Oh my god, did you put it in your _mouth_?” she gasped, dying of curiosity, her cheeks rosy in response to the rather lurid imagery her mind came up with. Ciel had never had a lover before and she needed to know absolutely _everything_.

“No! I did not touch it, with my hands or my mouth, you filthy brat!” Ciel went pink, matching his cousin’s flushed appearance. “Honestly Lizzie, why would that be the first place your mind goes?” Why indeed; though she wasn’t the first to do so, to seem charmed by his servant, that reaper, and the mother of the possessed child…”What about you? What kind of lewd things have you been up to lately? How do these British blokes measure up to the guys back home?” He took her hand in his, massaging it tenderly, waiting for her answer, hoping it would deter her from asking more of her pointed questions.

She gave him a look as if to say her mind could have went to much worse places and she sighed before she answered, "More than you obviously. _I've_ had one in my mouth. Tasted awful, but he seemed to like it and he didn't at all mind returning the favour. The British boys are rather generous in their affection." She giggled, and her cheeks flamed further, catching his fingers in her own and weaving them together, tugging them to her chest. She cleared her throat after a moment and seemed to remember she had not yet finished her interrogation. He was clever at distracting her, she'd give him that. "If you didn't touch his... Did he by any chance touch yours? Is he British?"

“Oh God, don’t say it tasted awful, you’ll have me switching teams before I properly experienced it myself. Poor bastard probably just didn’t wash properly, or something.” Where the hell was Sebastian with their lunch? He was no doubt delaying things on purpose, probably enjoying Ciel’s squirming and his discomfort. “Um, I’m not sure what he is, really… he certainly doesn’t sound British,” he started, “And you’re out of luck again dearest cousin, i’ve not been _touched_ directly by Sebastian.” He dragged their hands over her shirt, putting them directly over her heart, his hand on the bottom “Your heart is racing; you’re totally getting off on this, aren’t you?” Ciel’s eyes smiled as he looked down at her heaving chest. “You pervert!”

Lizzie began to laugh, and shook her head. "Maybe I am! Is that so terrible? So he didn't touch, but you want him to, I can totally tell. You're trying to be all demure, but it's written all over your face. I bet you think about him when you," she made a lewd motion with her unoccupied hand as she continued speaking, "Probably call out his name and everything. _Oh Sebastian, I'm yours, take me harder!_ " she ended wickedly with a teasing impression of his impassioned voice.

There was the distinct clearing of a throat. Sebastian was standing with a serving cart next to him, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed dangerously, not at all pleased with what he was observing, even with the words he'd managed to overhear.

Ciel straightened up, disentangling his hand from his cousin’s as he pushed her into a sitting position. He _felt_ Sebastian’s displeasure more than he observed it and it confused him. True, Lizzie had been quite obscene with her words and her gestures, but that was pretty standard coming from her. 

He crossed his legs and composed himself. “Where are my manners, you haven’t properly been introduced.” He knew the servant had recognized Lizzie enough to have informed him of her arrival, but it had been clear from their conversation that his cousin had never made his acquaintance while Ciel had been abroad. “Lizzie, this is my… _associate_ , Sebastian, Sebastian, my cousin and BFF, Lizzie.”

"Charmed," Sebastian said, a sharp smile on his mouth as he inclined his head in feigned politeness, movements much more mechanical and stiff with tension. He did not care for the introduction nor the girl's over exuberant presence especially given her complete disregard for his butterfly's personal space. 

Lizzie looked him over with bright eyes, seeing far more than most, seemingly grasping his possessive envy. She smiled widely at him in return and even winked at him when she caught his eye. "The pleasure is definitely mine. I'm so glad that Ciel is exploring new _business_ ventures," she said, batting her lashes innocently. 

The demon was taken aback by the assertive words from the girl, but not because she was being particularly crude or anything of the sort. He knew far more about debauchery and was used to much lewder observations, but they were usually directed at himself because of his nature. She was making it blatantly obvious that she had suspicion about the relationship between he and his master, but she wasn't condemning it which completely unbalanced him, making his jealousy seem out of place. 

He cleared his throat again and turned to serve them, "Today's lunch is miniature bruschetta medallions with scallion, garlic and fresh herbs topped with soft goat's cheese. Served with a creamy balsamic to accompany the meal and an aromatic and sweet maple rooibos."

Ciel looked over Sebastian suspiciously, only half listening to what was being served for lunch. He hadn’t missed the dangerously black glower the servant had given them when he saw them sprawled out on the sofa or the sharp tone he used with them afterwards. The demon was beyond annoyed, that much was clear; that was fine, because so was Ciel. He was annoyed that he was likely missing something that the demon had picked up on and was once again not sharing, leaving his master to his ignorance. 

He took hold of Lizzie’s hand again, and gave it a squeeze before he stood, “It seems that something is weighing so heavily on Sebastian’s mind that he’s forgotten the Valpolicella. I’ll be back in a few minutes, did you want anything else while I’m inside?” When she shook her head with a wicked grin on her face, he made for the door, “Come, Sebastian.” 

Twenty paces into the dwelling is all it took before the irritated young man turned abruptly on the servant, invading his personal space, “Is there any reason as to why you’re staring daggers at my guest, Sebastian? You’re so out of sorts right now that you can’t even properly feign politeness!”

Sebastian met the unimpressed gaze of the young man unflinchingly, lips in a thin, expressionless line as he stood rigidly before his master. He recrossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “There is,” he answered flatly, failing to elaborate on what exactly the reason was. “Apologies for my carelessness. I’ll retrieve the requested vintage posthaste.” He didn’t sound the least bit repentant.

It took all of Ciel’s self-restraint to not stomp his foot like a spoiled child as Sebastian turned his back on him and walked towards the kitchen. Instead, he caught up and grabbed the demon’s arm, yanking it forcefully, demanding the servant's attention, “You smug bastard, you can take your apologies and shove them up your ass. Tell me what’s going on.”

Sebastian whirled on the young man when Ciel gripped his arm, pressed him back against the nearest wall, soft fingertips curling around his throat with gentle firmness, pinning him there. He bowed over him, eyes glowing in the dim shadowed hall, growling lowly in response, his restraint snapped the moment his master had touched him. “You’re doing it on purpose aren’t you? Letting her touch you so familiarly; are you so eager to incite my true nature? It’s worked, that’s _what_ is going on. She should be so lucky that I can’t destroy her. I’m a selfish creature and you are mine little butterfly. I’ll not share you,” he replied huskily, voice coarse with aggressive possession, his fingers kneading at the soft skin of his master’s throat and jaw. He licked his lips, gaze flickering to the young man’s slightly parted lips and back to the defiant midnight irises veiled in darker lashes. There was a vague twinge of warning from the branded contract, but Ciel must not have felt threatened and a devilish curl formed on his lips. His nature _thrilled_ his little lover; he could practically taste it. And it was _delicious._

Sebastian’s bout of aggressiveness had caught him off guard, though in hindsight, it should barely have been a surprise. He swallowed and felt his Adam's apple bob against the firm hold around his neck, sure that Sebastian could feel his pulse quicken under the long fingers as they pressed against the young master's jawline. Ciel’s eyes sparkled and gleamed as a throaty laugh broke from his lips and resounded in the hallway louder than it would have otherwise been anywhere else in the flat. 

He felt the grip around his throat tighten ever so slightly and he became nearly breathless as his excitement disabled his ability to rationally filter his words, “On purpose? You can’t possibly hear yourself speak, you’d be embarrassed, ashamed even!” Unshed tears of mirth glistened in his azure eyes before they were replaced by a scowl that Ciel had come to associate with the defiant showdowns he shared with Vincent, “I’ll not change my relationship with anyone just to suit your jealousy, least not with her, and especially when you’ve nothing to be jealous about.”

“Naive,” Sebastian hissed, pressing in closer to Ciel, growling as he scented him, irritated by the perfume lingering on Ciel’s skin and hair. Ciel was right, but he also didn’t realize how Sebastian’s jealousy could be justified. Sebastian had seen Lizzie’s desire for Ciel while observing their youth. And though rationally, he knew that the girl had made peace with her emotions, that she knew she had no chance to have him, even supported his preferences, he could not fathom how she could not be scheming to steal his butterfly for herself. 

He pressed his mouth beneath Ciel’s ear, breathed hot and damp against his skin, “You possess me. It’s shameful that a mortal can affect me so. Only you infuriate and intrigue me this way, my lord.”

Ciel shuddered and unconsciously bared his neck to the demon as his heart beat madly against in ribs, as though trying to escape from his chest. He was in the midst of closing his eyes, of losing himself when he replayed Sebastian’s words in his mind... No! He shook his head, violently denying the demon further access to his skin as he tightened his eyes and grit his teeth, “Is that what counts as a compliment in hell, demon?” He heaved a sigh and tried unsuccessfully to push Sebastian away; when he couldn’t, a pinched, tension-filled expression found home on his features, “Don’t worry about it, _lover_ , you’ll be relieved of this passing fancy in less than a year, free to pursue higher quality… ass, elsewhere.” Ciel was hurt by the demon’s implication that he was a lesser being, and was petulant enough to want to hurt Sebastian in return, “By all means, if my kind is so offensive to you, you don’t even have to wait a year… I’m sure you have all kinds of fiends lined up around the block, waiting for you, begging to be with you.” His chin came up defiantly as his fingernails bit into his palms, “You’re relieved of your duties tonight if you so desire, I have Lizzie to keep me company after all and we won’t wait up.”

Sebastian snarled, his grip tightening, elongated nails prickling dangerously at the smooth skin of his master’s throat for several drawn seconds before he released him entirely, crimson desire and anger writhing in his slitted gaze as he straightened up stiffly. “So be it. Bare in mind misguided little butterfly, by your order, I won’t be _obliged_ to come if you call for me,” he said smokily, smoothing his clothing, watching Ciel for a heated moment before he turned away to disappear down the hallway.

***

Chapter 6 Blooper Reel

*Scene Six “Providence” (Borgia Tower- The Vatican) Take One*

**Belial _airily_ :** Quit dawdling Andy, I could smell you as soon as you arrived, you know how I abhor waiting.

_(The door opened of its own accord to admit Andromalius into the room.)_

**Belial _(nose wrinkled in distaste)_ :** Sweet zombie Jesus, just because you came from the stinking bowels of hell doesn’t mean you need to smell like it. 

_(A commercial jingle starts up as Belial pulls out a bottle of febreze air freshener from nowhere, sprays it vigorously over and around Andromalius. Three blindfolded priests are lead into the room.)_

**Belial:** What do you smell?

**Priests:** It smells clean, fresh, it’s great.

_(The blindfolds are removed and all the priests make varying expressions of impressed shock and disgust.)_

**Belial _smiling far too brightly with way too many teeth_ :** Not even the odour of decaying human flesh can stand up to the power of Febreze.

_Cut!_

 

*Scene Six “Providence” (Borgia Tower- The Vatican) Take Four*

**Belial:** Get out. I need to make a call. And for the love of the unholy son, clean yourself up before I send for you next.

_(Andromalius exits. Belial procures a wide-mouthed chalice half filled with human blood from within the left desk drawer, whispers an incantation under his breath. He idly twirls a lock of hair between his fingertips as he waits for an answer to his call.)_

**Grell:** Hello darling! I was just about to give you a ring. How have you been?

**Belial:** As if you don’t know you shameless slut. Tell me about what happened with Asmodeus and the little Phantomhive bitch? I want details.

**Grell _(laughs)_ :** You know I don’t like to kiss and tell, but I will say, the pipsqueak is certainly rather unremarkable, considering he has apparently caught Bassy’s attention. Lucky little bitch doesn’t even realize how good he’s got it. And good God, you should have seen what he was wearing… So unsophisticated, like some common hustler.

**Belial _(scowling and pouting)_ :** I’m not at all surprised. Not everyone can be born with good taste, certainly not homewrecking harlots with poor breeding… Or was it inbreeding… _(There’s a vibrating echo through the connection.)_ That’s my call waiting, one sec… _(murmurs something unintelligible into the chalice and greets Lucifer with a wrinkled nose, asks him to hold a moment before switching back to Grell)_... Ugh, it’s Luci. I’ll get rid of him, just give me a moment.

**Grell _(painting his nails idly)_ :** Take your time.

_(Belial switches back to Lucifer, tells him he is busy, still receiving his reports, etc, attempts to switch back to Grell._

**Belial:** Omg, he’s so annoying…

**Lucifer:** Excuse me?

**Belial _(wide-eyed)_ :** Who’s this?

**Lucifer:** Lucifer, who else?

**Belial:** Right… One sec… _(Switches back to Grell without mishap this time.)_ Omg, he is sooo annoying...

_Cut! That’ll be enough out of you Regina George. This is not the set of “Mean Girls.”_

 

*Scene Six “Providence” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Nine*

_(Lizzie gives Ciel panties instead of boxer briefs when he's changing his clothing.)_

**Ciel _(staring contemptuously at the indecent undergarments in his hands)_ :** What the hell Lizzie?

**Lizzie:** What? Those were the cutest ones in your drawer.

**Ciel:** Sebastian!

_Cut!_

 

*Scene Six “Providence” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Roof Veranda) Take Twelve*

**Ciel:** Oh God, don’t say it tasted awful, you’ll have me switching teams before I properly experienced it myself. Poor bastard probably just didn’t wash properly, or something.

**Lizzie _(laughs)_ :** In my experience girls tend to taste better, smell better too, but you're probably right about the washing. Boys are always so dirty. 

**Ciel _(wide-eyed)_ :** in _your_ experience? Since when were you playing both sides of the field?

**Lizzie _(rolls eyes)_ :** It's college Ciel; I'm experimenting. One of us obviously has to.

**Ciel:** Bitch please, I'm not even in the same species anymore _(clasps both hands over his mouth)_

**Seb _(arrives unannounced)_ :** Did you call for me, my lord?

_Cut!_


	7. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: You are what you eat.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Pet by A perfect Circle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrEP3RPgEao&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=177)  
> Ciel~ [River by Bishop Briggs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5jz8xdpR0M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support!  
> Have a double update this weekend as thanks! :) 
> 
> *** We've updated chapters 1-4 to also include outtakes - Enjoy!***

The hallway was bathed in darkness, but Ciel did not need a lantern, didn’t need to run his hand along the wall or watch his footing; he knew exactly where he was going. As he neared his father’s office, he could see a strip of light from under the door, it pooled some inches onto the floor and into the hallway. Scratches could be heard from behind the giant oak doors, as could the agonized wailing and groaning. He stopped in front of the office, though it was not his destination and the moment he put his ear to the door, everything behind it went silent. He _should_ check on whoever was in there, though he was sure he knew who it was; nobody else could spur such resentment within him. His hands slid over the surface of the door, feeling the intricate patterns that had been carved in the wood centuries ago, but he couldn’t find the handle. He knew where it should have been, but it wasn’t there. He pushed against the reinforced wood with his shoulder and nothing gave. 

It was a little known fact that once Vincent had taken ownership of Phantomhive Estate, he had installed locks at the bottoms of the doors, so that he could merely kick it open rather than fish out one of his many keys. It was because he knew of his father’s penchant for convenience, that Ciel got on his stomach, right cheek to the floor as he tried to maneuver his hand under the crack to slide it along the bottom in search of the latch. From the other side, a hand, cold and damp, skin like the gelatinous surface of day-old custard grabbed his own and pulled. 

Ciel yelped and drew his hand back under the door, but not without scraping the surface, pulling his own skin away as he did so. Heart racing, he moved away to the opposite side of the hallway from where the doors stood and saw the hand reach from under, fingers stretching, searching. As they did, the smell or rot and ruin permeated the hall, and turned his stomach. Even with his mouth and nose covered by the sleeve of his nightshirt, Ciel could still make out the stench as if it had been imprinted in the fibers of his clothes. “Ciel… help me… please…” He shook his head, eyes wide. 

“No! You’re dead!” he shouted as he got clumsily to his feet and ran stumbling down the hall to his destination. 

He never thought he would be so happy to see the basement. Sebastian had been gone so long, hadn’t returned since their quarrel. Ciel wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then; all he knew was that he had called for him, had searched everywhere he knew, and the basement was his last hope of finding his lover again. 

As before, the moment he started going down the cold concrete staircase, the lights of the candelabras lit spontaneously. He was expected, would find Sebastian there, would apologize, beg for forgiveness if he needed to. He took the steps two at a time, nearly falling in the process. Once he reached the bottom his eyes gazed expectedly to the cage and found it empty. 

“Ciel… you’ve come to help me…” He whipped around and saw his mother, naked, tied to chair. 

“Mom!” he rushed to her, and pulled at her restraints, “Give me a few moments, I’ll have you out of here.” Damn it, the ropes were too tightly bound; her fingers were blue, bloated, had been completely deprived of proper circulation. “Who did this to you?” 

“Help me, Ciel, you have to hurry, before it comes back…” Tears ran down Rachel Phantomhive’s cheeks, cleaning a path on her dirtied, emaciated face, through a network of clumped, damp and plastered blond hair. Her son wiped them with his sleeve and growled at his inability to loosen her restraints. He didn’t want to run upstairs to fetch a knife, she said whoever had done this to her would be back soon, he couldn’t chance it. 

“Stay still, Mom… I can’t,” Ciel choked out, the situation feeling dire as he contemplated carrying her upstairs attached to the chair. He wrapped his arms around her chest and through the slots of the back of the chair and tried to lift them up; it would be difficult, but he would have to manage. The chair didn’t even budge. “Wha…” He looked at the ground where the chair had been bolted. 

“He’s coming, Ciel, please, you have to help me… hurry,” she sobbed pleadingly. 

Ciel turned to face whoever would be coming down the stairs; he would meet them, hoping his mounting fury at the situation would fuel his strength. The door never opened, feet did not appear to be making their way down the stairs. 

“Help her, Ciel,” came a low, throaty, taunting voice from behind him. “Ahhhh… look how you’ve grown…” His mother’s mouth spoke, though the words were out of synch with the movements of the lips, like a badly dubbed movie. 

“Get out of her!” he shouted impotently. His mother’s head turned slowly to the right, then cracked sickeningly, then turned just as slowly to the left with a crunch. She, _it_ , was shaking its head.

“No,” it said, “I like it in here… So did Sebastian… She’s so warm and soft...” It threw its head back in a cackle.

“Let her go!” he repeated, charging it, but the moment Ciel got less than a foot away he was pushed back, flew the length of the room and hit his head against the wall. He tried to stand, but couldn’t steady himself on his feet. He crawled. “Please, let her go,” he whined pitifully. 

“Uh uh… I said I like it in here…” The voice became more guttural, distanced itself from the female tone it had initially assumed, “Let the devil fuck you Ciel… like he fucked your father, like he fucked your mother when she begged for it, buried his cock so deep in every hole she had, making sure his demon seed would grow inside her…” 

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Ciel shouted, covering his ears in a childishly futile bid to barr the words from being uttered. The voice was inside his head as much as it filled the basement.

“Lo’ and behold, you came out nine months later.” It said in a sing-song voice, smiling a most unnatural, pointed toothy smile. “Finally, the Phantomhives had their own demon spawn. A curiously morbid child, a sinner, a thief…” 

“No,” his voice cracked. His mind ran through every prayer he had learned, which would be most effective, would silence the demon, would get it out… 

“In the Name of Jesus Christ,” he began, and the demon spoke the words with him, louder, with more assurance, but changed certain words, _’In the Name of Belial’_... “Our Lord and Saviour,” Ciel continued, _’Our Lord and Master’_ , “O Lord, hear my prayer. And let my cry come unto Thee.” _’Oh lord, hear my moans. And let me cum onto Thee’_. The demon broke into a laughter so shrill, it made Ciel’s eyes water. Prayers weren’t working.

Ciel couldn’t hold it together much longer, his stomach was churning, the bile threatening to make its way up. As though the demon could sense his distress, it simpered, “Aw, poor baby, don’t feel well? Mommy doesn’t either.” Before he had time to process the words, the demon projectile vomited onto Ciel’s nightshirt, the smell of gastric acid finding its way to his nostrils, making him gag. He leaned over, steadying his hands onto the floor in the puddle of his mother’s bright green sick and he felt the hardened pieces under his palms, saw long strands of raven hair. He fished the pieces out, all ten of them; nail fragments, darkened, sooty, black... 

“Sebastian!”

***

Sebastian had been sitting cross legged on the ceiling of his quarters, distanced and in a meditative state, had been since Ciel had dismissed him in an attempt to cool his raging temper. It had been hours, he traveled great distances with his familiar, taking in scenery, distracting himself from what sort of familiarity and intimacy was being exchanged between Ciel and his cousin. It had been working quite well, tucked away as he was in the dark and the silence; even his own breath still and heart unbeating. Soothing for the aching inside him.

Ciel did not understand, could not. Sebastian had warned him that love meant different things to them. Humans could love so freely, so easily, be so fickle and mend broken hearts repeatedly only to break them again; his kind could not. He would be enslaved to his love, devoted, protective, possessive, plagued with it because love for his kind was eternal and all consuming and it was not unconditional. His love would belong to no one else, would taste no one else; he would not know any other flesh, but Sebastian’s. Ciel would likely never understand the primal carnality of it; the distinct hum of need beneath his skin, instinctive and unwavering. Bound and binding. How was he to compromise love with a mortal? Ciel was still wary, suspicious and inhibited as mortals were wont to be, ignorant of the courtship rites between the fallen. 

After so long caged and numbed, he had not the patience or the control to rein in the heightened passionate emotions that otherwise would be of no issue. Ciel was different; hadn’t Sebastian been clear in saying so? He’d been misunderstood, perhaps his words had not been the right ones. Tempting mortals was easy, whispering fanciful things, the truths they wanted to hear, their deepest desires unearthed and accepted, celebrated; easy. But to love one… to be so vulnerable, to allow one to make him weak... and to not mind it in the least. It was laughable. But he would not change it for anything. There was no alternative. He would coax his butterfly; Ciel was too beautiful, too intoxicating, ensnaring not to. The mortal was _worthy_.

There was an abrupt and sharp ringing in his head, a pulsing rush of pleading desperation ripping him from the peace he’d found. Ciel was calling him. His distress was potent through the link and Sebastian could refuse, could ignore it, but of course, he _couldn’t_. There was the whisper of feathers as he became animated again, moving with inhuman speed and grace.

He let himself into his master’s room, prepared to defend him only to find his butterfly alone in his bed, the sheets twisted around him in a vicious and suffocating grip. His cheeks were wet, glistening, moonlight prismed and glittering ethereally in his tears. So beautiful and so tortured in the confines of his own mind. Miserable butterfly…

“Shh, that’s enough now young master,” he cooed quietly, brushing cool, black lacquered fingertips over the young man’s clammy brow and through the sweaty midnight strands of hair soothingly. 

Ciel struggled desperately against the vice-like grip of the sheets that kept him prisoner in his own nightmare. He’d heard the pacifying voice, felt the cool touch of fingers, but could not reconcile them with the lurid scene that seemed to tattoo itself behind his eyelids. “I couldn’t do it,” he sobbed, then choked, “Couldn’t help her… useless, useless, useless…”

Sebastian crawled into the bed, carefully untangled the bedding from around the trapped body and drew the shaking, sobbing youth against him. He smoothed his fingers over the soft, damp skin beneath the button up shirt the young man had worn to bed that looked to be one of his own. He tenderly tucked Ciel’s head against his chest over the steady rhythm of his heart beating and he began humming the same familiar melancholy lullaby as always. 

 

_Wake up my love. You’re only dreaming,_ his soft voice whispered through their link as his outward humming continued along with the stroking of his fingers and he had forgotten the jealous rage of earlier. Ciel would call out for no one else to protect him... 

Ciel _felt_ the voice, its caress was right, but the words were all wrong; not a dream, definitely not a dream… a nightmare, some terrible phantasm, a _bête noire_. He fought against the visions of his mother bound and sickly, his father’s decomposing pleading hand, shook his head as though he could erase them from his memory like the Etch-a-Sketch he so fondly played with as a boy. And though he childishly longed to be consoled by his mother at that very moment so that he could confirm her safety, it was his lover's arms and voice and comfort he craved most of all. 

Free from his captivity, he took no time to throw himself into Sebastian’s lap, to wrap his arms around the demon’s neck, to take in the alluring, familiar scent and to taste its savoury deliciousness upon his lips. “Don't leave,” Ciel begged between ragged, sob-filled breaths, as his mouth pressed itself on his demon’s neck, “Don't ever leave me… even if I say so… even if I order you away.... stay, disobey…”

Sebastian held Ciel tighter, rubbed soothing circles on his back and sides. "I'm not going anywhere sweetling," he assured, tilting his head slightly to allow the young man to bury his face against his throat.

Sebastian’s tightened hold helped ease the trembling, threw the tender, compassionate way he touched Ciel into sharp relief against the fear and revulsion caused by the dream. The arms he had wrapped around the demon, loosened, and his fingers found themselves wound in the longer strands of Sebastian’s hair and forced his head back to give Ciel full access to his throat. He wet his lips and pressed them against the strained muscles, softly and frequently, making his way from the hollow notch in the throat to the delicate skin below his ear, humming into the kisses, almost as if in accompaniment to Sebastian’s familiar crooned song.

The demon’s breath hitched, interrupting the lullaby and a rumbling growl followed. His fingers kneaded the flesh of Ciel’s sides beneath the light material of his shirt, warming against the soft skin. “You should not tempt me butterfly, not when you are so vulnerable,” he murmured huskily, pressing his mouth against the silky tangle of hair on the top of Ciel’s head while the boy mouthed at his throat greedily. 

“It is _you_ that tempts me,” Ciel whispered huskily against Sebastian’s skin, unable to pull his mouth away, “The same way you tempt everyone else.” His hands left the sleek inky strands, fingers straying softly, teasingly down the neck and tracing patterns over strong shoulders and sculpted back where they stilled in both awe and confusion. His breath caught and he swallowed, fingers fanning outwards from Sebastian’s spine along the warm, smooth as silk texture. Its softness stimulated his fingertips, tickling them as he slid a delicate fragment between thumb and forefinger, moving them from root to tip an impressive distance. Only after having repeated the process a dozen times, did Ciel realize they were feathers. Feathered wings. A demon’s feathered wings. It was a harsh reminder that he was in fact seeking solace from a demon after having unconsciously witnessed his mother possessed by one. He drew his hands away, holding them behind his back, afraid he had committed a serious faux-pas. As always, Sebastian’s face was unreadable, “What were you… to them… to my parents?”

The feathered appendages shifted beneath the unexpected touch. The demon hadn't even realized they were still free instead of trapped in ink under his skin. Sebastian's jaw twitched, wings sensitive to the reverent touch of Ciel's fingers and sending pulsing shivers through his blood with each caress. When Ciel drew away, Sebastian chased after him, maneuvered so that he could rest comfortably with the dark-plumed wings stretched behind him, and guided the young man's hands back to them. He inhaled deeply and looked at him as he considered the question. "To your mother, I was security and to your father, I was simply a dangerous means to a righteous end, a tool to be used as necessary and only then," he answered, uncertain what had sparked such an inquiry from his young master, what connection there was between his words, his actions and his suspicion.

Ciel nodded slowly as Sebastian spoke, listening closely to what he said and trying to interpret the things he didn’t. He turned in the demon’s lap, sitting properly on it, facing away from him, but leaning comfortably into the heat of Sebastian’s chest as the darkened wings came around and ensconced the young man. He kept running his hands over the lovely plumage, brought it to his face, so soft, it almost felt like water cleansing his skin. He knew what he wanted to ask, but felt so ashamed, especially after having blown up at Sebastian that very evening for his jealousy. _But this was different,_ he mused, _this was his mother, and he could not be with Sebastian, if he had taken advantage of her, or used his lust to possess her._ “The demon in my nightmare, and the reaper the other day, they all insinuated that you were _with_ both my parents. Were you... intimate with them?” He bit his lip, happy the demon could not see him blush, could not see the somewhat twisted expression on his face.

“Not at all butterfly. Your father and others before him bound my desires, took possession of all my liberties and forbade me to act according to my base nature unless it suited them. I was denied for so very long, I’d forgotten… But you freed me. Your mother only spoke to me once face to face, only to ask questions, to have honest answers. She asked if I would watch over you, did you know? She didn’t need to. I was always watching and I always will,” he’d said more than necessary, but what matter was it if he offered more than riddles. He was not sure what to make of his master’s behaviour, understanding only the vulnerability in the scent of him and the clutch of his fingers. Whatever had made Ciel’s nightmares had obviously shaken his young master, preyed on insecurities he had not yet admitted to. 

Sebastian’s wings closed in around them, shadowing them in the silky canopy and he thumbed along the nape of Ciel’s neck, massaging away the tension. He could feel the flush of heat in the youth’s skin. Ciel had been concerned that Sebastian had maybe played the same sorts of tricks, taken the same liberties with his parents, was clearly upset by the idea of it and Sebastian was pleased that he did not have to make his fears a fact. Rachel had as he’d said, only spoken to him face to face the once, not too long after Ciel had been born and Vincent had been away at a meeting. He didn’t think Vincent had ever even known his wife had visited the demon that once. And Vincent had never been made aware of Sebastian’s watching. He’d had suspicions, but Rachel had never affirmed them, though she had known. She had often spoken to his familiar, looked for him to be sure he was watching whenever she was with Ciel. Her concerns had all been for her son. 

Relief washed over Ciel; Sebastian had been more forthcoming than he had hoped. He turned to face the demon, straddling his lap and gave a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Turn on the lights, I want to see you.”

Sebastian looked away, dark lashes veiling his glittering eyes, "I'd rather not," he protested, resisting the order, but compelled to obey it. He closed his eyes entirely as he gave in to the compulsion, the candles flickering to life around the room, reflecting off the inky black plumes of his broad, arched wings. His elongated and soot stained nails pressing into the soft skin of Ciel's hips as he gripped them, certain that he would receive disgust from the young man. He knew what tastes Ciel had and his demon form did not reflect them in several notable ways that his human guise did.

The moment Sebastian had expressed his discomfort, Ciel regretted giving the order. He squeezed his eyes shut, and would not open them without his lover’s expressed permission. He could make out light dancing from behind his eyelids, knew the room would be bathed in a lovely glow, would make the demon more ethereal, more perfect, more irresistible. He inched his face closer to Sebastian’s, until he felt the sweet breath, until their lips were almost touching; situated, he brushed his cheek along the demon’s until it came across the long soft strands that framed his face in such an appealing way. Tucking them behind his ear, Ciel brought his mouth to the lobe and whispered, “My eyes are shut and I won’t look if you don’t want me to, though I’m not sure why. Based on how they feel against my skin, I can only imagine it would only serve to enhance your attractiveness… unless you’re trying to spare my ego by not showing me yet another reason everyone is fawning all over you.”

The demon inhaled and held it a moment, wet his lips and exhaled heavily, "You may be disappointed, but if you wish to see then look butterfly; I won't hide them from you," he murmured, taking solace in the fact that it was at least only his wings and a few other small details of his features that had been tainted by his true nature and not his demonic form. He had to have trust if he wanted Ciel's in return; he knew that, knew that his master was struggling to believe him genuine in his affections. Miscommunication and differing perceptions, but it was possible to find equilibrium with compromise. He was learning quickly.

Ciel pulled back, pursing his lips as they spread into an expectant smile. His heart raced, unsure of why Sebastian was so hesitant since he usually came off so self-assured, even cocky. His eyelashes fluttered open to scarlet feline eyes scrutinizing every expression that crossed his face. They took in his surprise as Ciel’s gaze fell from the eyes and onto the sinful mouth and a gasp fell from the young man’s lips. Morbid curiosity nagging at him, Ciel ran his thumb over Sebastian’s parted lips, and paused only to press a digit against the razor sharp teeth. It took very little pressure for them to pierce the skin; and so sharp were they, that Ciel’s brain did not register any pain, stinging, radiating or otherwise with the wound he brought between his own lips to suck as the blood trickled onto his tongue. 

Sebastian seemed momentarily ill at ease with the pain his master had inflicted upon himself and a hand left Ciel’s hip to cup his cheek. From his periphery, Ciel made out his lover’s familiar blackened fingers, though they had never seemed quite so claw-like. As with the demon’s teeth, they would be able to take him apart with little difficulty and the possibility of the kinds of damage that could be inflicted upon him appealed to Ciel’s macabre nature, thrilled him. 

Surprise gave way to awe as Ciel made out the strong, luminescent plumage that surrounded him; they were not the faint and wispy feathers of his mother’s angelic figures. He flung his arms out, forcing Sebastian to spread his wings, and their vast expanse, their sheer beauty caused Ciel’s eyes to glisten and glow with unshed tears. 

If pride was the roaring fire that crackled under his skin, then his arousal was an inferno that consumed him. He seized his desire to touch the demon, pushing him onto his back, planting his hands on either side of Sebastian’s head, pushing his forehead against his lover’s, reciting the only thing that came to his mind since he was unable to find words of his own,

“In what distant deeps or skies.  
Burnt the fire of thine eyes!  
On what wings dare he aspire?  
What the hand, dare seize the fire!

And what shoulder, & what art.  
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?  
And when thy heart began to beat,  
What dread hand! & what dread feet!”

Sebastian’s breath was husky between his lips, heated and quicker than usual, amplified by the rushing of his thrumming blood as Ciel pressed him back, his wings spread beneath them as if in unholy crucifixion on the plush white backdrop of Ciel’s bed. He looked up at him, chest expanding and deflating with each breath. His hands settled on his master’s hips, claws careful not to break the precious fragile skin, but a constant threat as he laid beneath the youth, halfway between human and not, looking much like the fallen angel he was. Though the almost vulnerable look in the glowing sanguine eyes was out of place in that imagery. 

 

“Poetry butterfly? You flatter me,” he replied, staring into the depthless sapphire of Ciel’s eyes hovering over his own, their foreheads pressed together, so close, their eyelashes could nearly tangle with one another.

“Mhmm,” Ciel mumbled, “You were expecting screams? I’m sure that could be arranged…” He smirked, sat upright and rocked himself into the demon. The tease had backfired and terribly; causing the young man’s eyes to roll back and his grip to tighten along his lover’s sides, “So beautiful, Sebastian. You won’t hide this from me anymore, do you understand?”

“I understand,” Sebastian affirmed in a gravelly and breathless tone, carefully remaining still beneath his master. “Tell me what you need from me butterfly?” he asked, sensing his lover’s fragility. Ciel was looking to escape the lingering helplessness and desperation of his nightmare and his insecurities and it wasn’t that Sebastian minded at all providing that distraction and comfort, but he wanted to restrain his own baser desires so as to satisfy his master’s instead so that his butterfly could sleep again. 

Ciel raked his nails over Sebastian’s abdomen, enjoying how they left faint pink trails against the alabaster skin. He traced meaningless invisible lines and patterns along his demon’s chest, but progressed to ancient motifs he’d picked up in various symbology books. He wiggled back playfully and placed careful, delicate kisses along Sebastian’s hipbones, peering up at him from under thick eyelashes then drawing the Ankh for eternal life and the scarab hieroglyph for rebirth over the right and left hip bones respectively. Another kiss cleansed the skin at the demon’s solar plexus, and his thumb drew a native-american symbol for transformation- the butterfly. He smiled into the next kiss at the heart, wondering if the winged beauty beneath him could make out the symbols he pulled from an array of pantheons just to toy with him, as he drew the Viking rune for possession. He moved up, now properly sitting on the the demon’s stomach and drew the Deathly Hallows on Sebastian’s forehead just for shits and giggles. “I don’t want to go back to bed just yet,” he whispered into his ear flirtatiously, “Distract me.”

Sebastian managed to decipher most of the symbols Ciel drew on his body, using it to distract himself from the softness of the lips proceeding each on his porcelain skin. He didn’t recognize the last symbol, but that could have been because of the whisper of warm breath and seductive orders in his ear. He swallowed and ran his tongue over the sharp line of his upper teeth, inhaling deeply and kneading at Ciel’s hips in return. “As you wish butterfly,” he murmured, turning his head to press his mouth to the side of Ciel’s neck, nipping lightly, tasting at the skin greedily while his hands slid further up beneath the youth’s shirt, caressing tenderly, thumbing over and pinching the peaked nipples. His touch was different than the last time, softer, gentler, not meant to punish but to soothe and make Ciel forget anything but the feel of Sebastian on his skin. 

His hips rocked up in vague, lazy motions against Ciel’s backside as he peeled the boy’s shirt off over his head, smoothing his hands back down his chest and sides appreciatively, long fingers caressing either side of his spine. He bowed forward and pressed his mouth to Ciel’s chest, tongue, teeth and lips mapping a heated path to his right nipple. 

The gentleness of Sebastian’s ministrations was set in sharp contrast to how tightly Ciel was holding onto him, leaving marks on his back, his pleasure so intense, he could feel the wetness of blood under his nails as he dug them into the demon’s flesh. He uttered a moan and then another and another, each kiss robbing him of speech as surely as it robbed him of coherent thought. 

This was not what he had meant by way of distraction. He naively thought Sebastian would draw his own symbols, but Ciel wouldn't complain. This was nothing compared to the first time, not that his body hadn't been deeply appreciative, but while there was something almost reverent in the way Sebastian touched and teased him, there was also an undercurrent of reservation. 

“You're holding back, why? I am _willing_ , see…” Ciel grasped Sebastian’s hand and led it to where he was aching with stiffness. “Unless it's because you're simply following orders… you can distract me any way you want,” he began rambling, suddenly paranoid that his lover did not desire him, was but simply compelled to act in this fashion, “I just want to be close to you,”

Sebastian was in fact drawing symbols of his own, only with a damp and agile tongue instead of his fingertips. He pulled away as Ciel guided his marked hand to the young man’s straining erection and he hummed appreciatively, guttural in his chest. “I am. Touching your skin is enough for tonight butterfly. I’ve not had the pleasure,” he said, and meant it. Certainly his body ached, his nature trying to break through the thin disguise further than it already had, but he was not so out of his head that he would allow it, not when Ciel was so fragile. There was no breaking what was already broken, not before he had the chance to remake him.

His fingers curled around Ciel’s burning, naked need and stroked at a tight, torturous pace, pausing to thumb beneath the ridged head intermittently. He drew his other hand from Ciel’s skin, fingers leaving ghost sensations in their wake. The digits slipped into his own mouth, coating them in inhuman saliva that was thicker and slipperier in response to his desired plans for it. There were certainly some rather pleasant perks to his nature; Ciel had but had only a taste of it, a taste of him thus far. Too much too soon would surely leave him ruined. Sebastian would in time consume him, but there was no need to rush; the adventure preceding the end was just as sweet a victory.

Fingers adequately drenched in the lubricated saliva, he pulled them from his mouth, swallowing the excess as his hand drifted down and beneath the press of the young man’s backside against his still clothed cock. The digits slipped between smooth cheeks, seeking out and finding the fluttering and eager entrance hidden there and rubbed tender circles over it with the pads of his fingertips, slicking it with the slippery wetness that had been left by his tongue. He watched Ciel from beneath the veil of sooty lashes, eyes feline and luminescent in the reflected candlelight bathing their bodies in warm flickering ripples. Avidly, greedily, he coveted the expressions, the pleasured, carnal abandon clearly written over flushed skin and dancing in murky midnight blue dilated eyes. “Beautiful,” he murmured, hardly more than a breath from between his parted red lips.

The tight, measured grip around Ciel’s hardness had him throwing his head back and calling out the demon’s name in a desperate way that carried as far as the open Juliet balcony and into the night. He bit his fist to stifle a string of profanities that were threatening to escape as he recalled Lizzie’s presence in the guest room down the hall. If she heard him, she would never let him live it down.

Through the panting, his mouth sought Sebastian’s, knowing he would have to rely on the demon’s restraint to temper his own desires. He kissed the inhuman mouth with an aggression and greed so great, it was nearly feral. He spilled all of his frenzied sounds, the whines and moans, into it as though they would somehow fuel the demon to work him faster and with more abandon.

Sebastian’s mouth eagerly met and latched onto Ciel’s, swallowing the desperate, needy sounds that spilled from the writhing creature tempting him. _That’s it sweetling,_ whispered through the room though Sebastian’s mouth was busy, _Lose yourself in me. Such a good boy, exquisite butterfly._

He growled into Ciel’s mouth, sucking on his tongue, nipping at it with sharp teeth and tasting the bittersweetness of blood that surfaced beneath them. His fingers slipped inside the tightness, slowly, pressing within the clenching channel with little resistance, the lubrication his saliva provided aiding in the endeavour. Out and in again, deeper as Ciel arched against the intrusion and the grip of his other hand slowed further, squeezed at the base of his master’s cock, back up, thumb firm along its underside and again. _Let out your voice my love. I adore when you beg for me…_

Ciel hummed in concentration, eyes pinched shut, trying his best to hold off the pleasure that was making its way up the length of his shaft with each slight downward twist of the demon's hand. He tried to meet each thrust by bringing up his hips, but the demon had the movements of both his hands so perfectly synchronized that Ciel had nothing to do but to let himself be enraptured, to luxuriate in the absolute balance of pain and ecstasy. Breathing became a chore the closer he got to his climax, and he couldn't help but squirm in his lover’s lap, feeling guilt-ridden that Sebastian was getting nothing and that he was getting, not something, but _everything_.

He felt the swell of Sebastian’s throbbing erection against his backside and he pushed into it, wanting to give it friction, wanting to feel its hardness and length up against him; instead, it drove the fingers inside him deeper, grazing against something so sensitive, “Sebastian! More!” He screamed the demon’s name so loudly, so often, his voice went hoarse with the effort it took.

A sinfully satisfied smirk spread over the demon’s lips as Ciel cried out and his body tightened and rippled around his fingers, desperately, pleadingly trying to pull them in again and again. He pressed in another and curled them, effortlessly relocating the bundle of nerves and expertly prodding and rubbing over it. He rut his hips up against the young man, wings shifting to leverage the motions, but he had no intention to gain his release, merely wanting to give Ciel what he was seeking and it was almost as gratifying watching his butterfly come undone as it would be to find his own relief. “Again. Call for me again sweetling,” he demanded, tone low, dangerous and husky. He’d always despised the name he’d been forced to respond to, though in later years, it was amusingly ironic, especially from the mouths of his kin in regard to him, but from Ciel’s mouth, it belonged to him and he would gladly forget all others before it.

As he all but rode the demon’s fingers, sweat ran down Ciel’s face, collected momentarily in the dips of his sharp collar bones and flowed down his torso to pool between his thighs. His hair was plastered to his face and his lungs burned with every sharp intake of breath. He was a complete mess and it was all Sebastian’s fault. Never had he ever thought he would let himself come undone like this, and certainly not by the hands of the devil; but in that moment, he would let Sebastian ruin him, over and over, until he was incapable of moving- and even after then…

His arms encircled the strained neck of his lover as he shuddered and trembled, pressing kisses along his jaw to his throat and placing an openmouthed kiss at its base. “Sebastian, let me cum,” his voice was raw, desperate and pleading against his lover’s skin. “Oh God! Sebastian!” he shouted before he could stop himself, the sacrilege was not lost on him nor the demon as his irises lit as though on fire. “Sebastian! Sebastian!” he cried, meeting the demon’s demands as his cock swelled and his climax claimed him. He hung onto his lover so tightly as wave after wave of his orgasm left his body, that he was sure his hands would be permanently imprinted on the demon.

Said demon practically purred as Ciel met his peak, crying out hoarsely between broken breaths as his frenzied body was overloaded with euphoric sensation. He revelled in the bite of nails in his back, the rippling clench of the young man’s body around his fingers while bittersweet release spattered over his other and over his chest; he wasn’t bothered in the least. He easily maneuvered the near boneless boy onto his back, carefully, tenderly removed his fingers from inside him and hovered over him, watchful and adoring. His butterfly was truly breathtaking spread limp and panting, debauched and disheveled by passion, by true freedom found only in the satiation of the most basic and primal of needs. His young master was made equal in this state, laid bare and unweighted by the trappings of humanity, made pure and in his most natural of forms. He was perfect. Sebastian was ensnared. 

Ignoring the insistent ache of his own cock still trapped within the confines of his trousers, he cleaned his fingers with his mouth, his chest too, efficiently and eagerly. Then he bathed Ciel’s spent cock with his tongue, not at all inclined to waste a single drop of his lover’s essence; it was as delicious and satisfying as the taste of Ciel’s blood, holding in it the same underlying bittersweet tones that were unique to his flavour, a sampling of his soul. He was already smitten and addicted to his flavour. Ciel would belong to no one else in present or in future and Sebastian would desire no other. Human or not, his butterfly held him captive and captivated, so much so that he worried what would become of him should their year pass and Ciel decide to abandon him. 

The thought was sobering, but he easily tucked it away to be considered later in the privacy of his own head and instead tucked his master’s limbs in comfortably. His wings settled and folded in against his back as he leaned back to pull the downy sheets over the young man. “Sleep now sweetling; no more dreams will disturb you,” he murmured huskily, bowing over to press a gentle kiss to Ciel’s brow and backed off, intending to leave Ciel to his slumber.

For the first time since their argument, Ciel felt perfectly at peace, but the down comforter that had been meant to keep him warm felt offensive against his skin when he'd spent the last hour wrapped in Sebastian's feathered embrace. "And how the hell is that supposed to happen if you leave? Get your ass back in bed, demon."

Sebastian looked taken aback by the demand, had not expected it. Considering the last time, he had fully expected Ciel to become guarded again, to push him away, but was pleasantly surprised and not about to squander the chance for more closeness to his master. He chuckled quietly, compelled to follow the order, but perfectly pleased to do so. “Apologies my lord, my mistake,” he said smoothly, an endeared, knowing smile tilting his lips. He slipped into the bed with the young man and laid back against the headboard, adjusting the heavy plumed appendages at his back accordingly to avoid discomfort. 

He looked at the boy, still flushed with a perfectly petulant pout on his pretty mouth. Sebastian fought down the urge to chuckle again and instead pulled the young man against him, cradling him to his chest, hand tangled in the sweat damp strands of navy hair at the back of his head. He guided it to rest over the unnecessary beat of his faux-human heart. But he would have it beat just for Ciel to hear it and be comforted. His fingers stroked through the fine locks, untangling them naturally and he began to hum his favoured lullaby as he always seemed wont to at night while watching over his mesmerising little butterfly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 Blooper reel
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Three*
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel leans over, steadying his hands onto the floor in the puddle of his mother’s bright green sick and he feels the hardened pieces under his palms, sees long strands of raven hair. He fishes the pieces out, all ten of them; nail fragments, darkened, sooty, black.)_
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel:** Sebastian!
> 
> **Sebastian _(covered in a white sheet)_ :** Ooooh ooooh, I am the ghost of erections past…
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Sebastian’s Servant Quarters) Take Seven*
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel frowns following the script, reading Sebastian’s internal monologue about him being ignorant of the courtship rights between the fallen. He pulls out his phone, Googles “courtship rights between the fallen”)_
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel _(interrupts the scene being filmed)_ :** Hey Sebastian! It says here that you should be gifting me a virgin at some point in our courtship... WHERE'S MY VIRGIN SEBASTIAN?!
> 
> **Sebastian:** No I'm to _claim_ a virgin. I did. Shall I remind you?
> 
> **Ciel:** If you must. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Ten*
> 
>  _(Sebastian tenderly tucks Ciel’s head against his chest over the steady rhythm of his heart beating and he begins humming the same familiar melancholy lullaby as always.)_
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel:** Are you taking requests, because I could do with something a little more cheerful right about now.
> 
> **Sebastian _(singing)_ :** I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts deedleedee…
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel _(unimpressed) _:__**  
>  __  
>  _Can you do it in Rowan Atkinson's voice?_  
>   
> 
> __  
> _**Sebastian _(in the requested impersonation)_ :** There they are all standing in a row. Big ones, small ones…_  
>  
> 
> __  
> _**Ciel _(joining in)_ :** Some as big as your head._  
>  
> 
> __  
> __  
> _Cut!_  
>   
>   
> 
> __  
> __  
> 
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Twelve*
> 
>  **Ciel:** Don't ever leave me… even if I say so… even if I order you away.... stay, disobey…
> 
> **Sebastian** : What a romantic proposal. Of course I'll marry you.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Fifteen*
> 
>  **Sebastian:** She asked if I would watch over you, did you know? She didn’t need to. I was always watching and I always will…
> 
> **Ciel _(pulls a face, obviously creeped out)_ :** Uh, always?
> 
> **Sebastian _(nods and grins sheepishly)_ :** Always.
> 
> **Ciel _(turns bright red)_ :** Like, even when I….
> 
> **Sebastian:** Especially then.
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel shudders)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Nineteen*
> 
>  
> 
> _(Seb staring into the depthless sapphire of Ciel’s eyes hovering over his own, their foreheads pressed together, so close, their eyelashes …_
> 
>  
> 
> **Ciel _(Pulling away, clutching his eye)_ :** Jesus fucking Christ! 
> 
> **Sebastian:** What?
> 
> **Ciel:** I lost my contact lense, your eyelash stabbed my eye.
> 
> **Sebastian _(Stripping off Ciel’s clothes while he’s half-blinded)_ :** Well if you didn't find long eyelashes so desirable… Aaaand you don't need to see for this anyways.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Twenty-One*
> 
>  **Ciel:** And how the hell is that supposed to happen if you leave? Get your ass back in bed, demon."
> 
> **Sebastian _(Hunching his back and dragging one of his feet limply towards the bed)_ :** Yes, yes, Master. Igor good. Igor obeys.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Seven “Restraint” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Twenty-Two*
> 
>  **Ciel:** And how the hell is that supposed to happen if you leave? Get your ass back in bed, demon.
> 
> **Sebastian:** Well the roofies should kick in in a couple minutes.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_


	8. Baiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Always dress to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet some of Seb's family in this chapter!  
> Enjoy!

Lizzie left a letter in farewell, departing before the sun had even risen. She didn’t think she could look her cousin in the eye after what she had heard the previous night. She had been teasing him the whole visit about his apparent servant, but she had not expected when she was sneaking to his room nostalgically that she would get solid proof of her suspicions. Her heart had raced and her face had been so hot; she’d been frozen, unable to move away when she heard the aching, shuddering cries in her cousin’s voice. And she was sure Sebastian had purposefully drawn out more of the wanton sounds, somehow aware she was listening. It was like a warning and it made her shiver. He had nothing to worry about though; there was no way she could ever make Ciel sound that way.

She couldn’t possibly face either of them; she’d probably faint if she heard a single word from either of the two men, so took her leave early morning. She wished the both of them well and promised to call or write again soon, perhaps they would see each other on winter break, ending with her standard and affectionate farewell.

Sebastian found it while Ciel was bathing, read it with a smile, folded it up and brought it and the morning post with him to prepare Ciel’s breakfast. There was a familiar insignia and parchment in the mail as well as some correspondence from the Phantomhive’s banker. He put the letter from Elizabeth at the top of the pile as Ciel would most certainly find his beloved cousin’s departure more pressing than the newest order from the Vatican, placed just beneath it on the tray. He’d chosen a spicy ginger and orange peel white tea to accompany the still warm, rich buttermilk biscuits and honeyed blood orange and grapefruit marmalade he’d prepared for breakfast and returned to Ciel’s side to find him finishing dressing.

“It seems Lady Elizabeth has already taken her leave my lord, and not too soon as it seems your _holy_ employers have another chore for you,” he greeted as he pushed the serving tray into the sitting area of the master bedroom.

Ciel cursed under his breath as he finished tying his Oxford shoes; first the infernal London rain, then Lizzie taking off and breaking their plans for the day, and now a possible work assignment? He considered stripping off his blue fitted dress shirt and black slacks and getting back into bed, hoping for some karmic do-over. 

He didn't speak as he went over to the vanity to style his hair, opting for a slicked back look, completely unabashed by the addition of the eyepatch he'd have to donne if they ventured out today. Lizzie hadn’t made any snide remarks about it (and she most definitely would have if it were in poor taste), but actually said it added to his mystique- whatever the hell that meant. 

Taking a seat by the bistro table overlooking the rainy street, he took a sip from the aromatic tea and enjoyed the companionable silence he and Sebastian shared. The letter that sat atop the small stack was unmistakably Lizzie’s; he could tell by the way she had spritzed it with her familiar perfume. As he unfolded it, he noticed how rushed she must have been to write it; her usual calligraphy had been replaced by an uneven, sloppy scrawl and he had a hard time making out what she’d written. He read and re-read the message and his eyes narrowed further as he took notice of the first letter of each sentence: L-O-U-D. Of course, Lizzie must have known that Sebastian might have peeked at the letter, the way his father had always done when he was small, so they had taken to writing in acrostic code. 

He drummed his fingers on the table, knowing he could not be legitimately upset with Sebastian, Ciel himself had been the _loud_ one after all, but the demon certainly hadn’t helped. “You did it on purpose didn’t you?” he glared, “Were you trying to prove something to yourself by making me-,” he flushed, “Or was that all for Lizzie’s benefit?” 

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully as he poured the tea for Ciel, a smile ghosting over his lips. He set the cup before the young man and met his gaze, batting his lashes coyly. “I certainly did my lord, but only because I adore your passion. Miss Elizabeth’s impromptu auditory voyeurism was simply a stroke of luck. My apologies if I’ve embarrassed you sweetling; it was not my intention. I had only wanted to hear you and to be fair, you did not appear to be complaining,” he responded, pleasure beneath his tone, obviously quite pleased with himself and the events of the previous night. 

Ciel grumbled something to himself; Sebastian was right, of course. “Stop trying to act coy, it doesn’t suit you.” Coy was the last thing the demon was; coy wasn’t sinful enough, or lust-worthy. He’d witnessed timid flirtation plenty of times before, and it had never caused him to lose his mind or to beg so shamefully for pleasure the way he had. Another sip of tea and a bite of warm biscuit caused the bitter marmalade to run down the side of his hand. His tongue stopped its progress as it reached his wrist and he lapped at it suggestively then winked at the demon. “Coy only works when you’re pure and innocent like me.”

The demon's eyes glittered and a sharp fang peeked out as his smile broadened, "Indeed, it suits you much better butterfly. Am I to assume this is your punishment for my transgression?" he replied, avidly watching the young man's mouth and he swooped in swiftly, hot tongue gliding along Ciel's bottom lip. "You should not play coy with the corrupt, young master, you're likely to be consumed," he said as he leaned away again, licking the sweet tartness of the marmalade from his lips.

Ciel’s breath hitched, the demon's skilled tongue reminding him of the previous night. Before Sebastian could get out of his reach, he swallowed what food he had in his mouth and gripped the collar of Sebastian’s grey shirt, forcing the demon’s mouth back onto his. He parted the demon’s liquid silky lips with his own tongue and regretted it immediately when Sebastian deepened the kiss and took control of it. Ciel should have known by now that he would not win any games against the devil, so he pulled back, his pride somewhat bruised by his inability to seduce the servant, “You need to stop baiting me, or you won't have anything left to corrupt.”

"Mm, but it's so difficult to resist when you're so _responsive_ sweetling. I only have so much restraint," the demon purred as Ciel leaned away from him, turning his head slightly to the side, his grip on Sebastian's collar loosening, but not falling away from the fabric. He leaned in, nose and lips ghosting over the already marked skin of Ciel's neck, "You could order me to stop, my lord, if you _truly_ wanted me too."

Ciel’s eyes smoldered as they devoured his lover; from the way his skinny jeans fit snugly in all the right places to how his sleeveless turtleneck revealed a strong defined musculature. If the demon only had so much restraint, he wasn’t sure how much he, as a _weak mortal_ , was expected to resist? “Never. Now sit down and stop being such a shit,” he said, mouth flooding with moisture as he pushed Sebastian away and turned to the familiar blue sealed document sent by his employer. 

He took the butter knife, poked it under the corner flap and expertly slid it across the seam until it came apart. From within, he removed an intricate, but gaudy black and red invitation that featured a nude woman in the throes of passion wearing only a gold _Volto_ mask; it was made out to a _Cielle P. & Guest_. The young man’s interest was initially peaked though he sighed when he remembered that this was to be a work assignment. He read on: _Flesh & Blood: Unmasked, Palais de Versailles, Place d’Armes, 78 000 Versailles, France, Date: Saturday, November 7th, Time: Twenty-two hundred Hours._

He handed it to Sebastian dismissively, “Last year during summer break, Lizzie and I drove to Florence to attend a party, but not before stopping for dinner. By the time we finished eating, we were late for the party and as a result, I got a speeding ticket. The officer misspelled my name, so when I got to court to fight it, they threw the ticket out.” He took a bite of the biscuit and wiped his mouth with a napkin, taking time to chew. “So since my name is written here as feminine, I do believe that Saturday, November seventh is a day off.” 

Sebastian’s smirk did not waver as he read over the invitation and he chuckled as Ciel spoke so naively. “I’m afraid you may be mistaken. This invitation is for a masque; everyone is someone else at a masque. And if I may be so bold, you’ll look splendid in a ballgown,” he said, auburn depths dancing with amusement and the ever present desire he had for the young man as he looked him over.

***

Not long after breakfast the young master and his demon left for Paris in order to make necessary preparations for the soiree that would take place the following evening. Ciel begrudgingly allowed Sebastian to take his measurements then left the servant to buy whatever clothing he would need for this masque; having never attended one in his eighteen years, Ciel’s only stipulation was that the demon should at least buy something tasteful and flattering.

As he made his way through the gates and up the cobblestone path leading to the palace, hanging off Sebastian’s arm, Ciel realized he should have also mentioned that it should be practical and masculine. “God damn it, slow down,” he hissed at the demon as he felt the five inch stilettos digging in between the stones and tripping him up. He’d always wanted to be taller, but stripper shoes were not what he had had in mind; and they were definitely stripper shoes - he remembered Lizzie wearing the exact same ones two Halloweens ago when they had attended a party together as the Vampire Stripper and the Nerdy Sociopath from Dusk ‘Til Dawn. 

The demon complied, and Ciel felt the dangerously feline eyes wander over his figure as he walked next to him. Sebastian would pay for his sick sense of humour. Would pay for the deep blue corset complete with overbust and black lace trim he had practically suffocated him with as he had tied the black ribbons from behind. And because there was so much skin to behold, the demon had opted for a heavy, uncomfortable black pearl bib necklace as a distraction. His lover would also be made to suffer for the matching floor-length sheen taffeta ball skirt that was ruched and delicately draped here and there to reveal an excruciatingly itchy black tulle petticoat underneath.

At least the black opera-length gloves had been a blessing since he could forego the indignity of painting his nails to match the blood red lipstick that stained his pout. There was also the fact that Ciel had kept his hair near shoulder length, which allowed him to get away from wearing a wig or the ostentatious extensions that he had seen on so many women tonight. Instead, his hair had been pinned up expertly by Sebastian and adorned with black pearls that allowed a few wispy strands to escape and cascade over his butterfly mask prettily. 

His. Butterfly. Mask. He doubted the demon could have found a more feminine mask - all black metal filigree with blue glittery highlights and brilliant black crystals running down the length of his nose. Not a matching one for the demon, though. Oh no, Sebastian had a mysterious, beautifully dangerous raven’s mask that accentuated his sharp cheekbones and angular features. 

But nothing, _nothing_ , was less necessary, less infuriating than the black lace garter belt, stockings and matching lace-up thong that Sebastian had presented him prior to putting on the heels of death. 

As they neared the doors that led to the Hall of Mirrors, Ciel pulled Sebastian towards a large cherub bronzed figure. He growled in frustration as he hid between the wall of the palace and the statue, “Stop. Just cover me… these underwear keep riding up my ass. I have no idea how women wear these things!” From behind the wide back of his date, he hefted part of his skirt up and aggressively pulled at the dainty ribbons that undid the bows holding the lacy thong securely on both sides of his hips. He sighed in satisfaction when he removed the offensive garment, and tucked the minimal laced bundle in the pocket of the demon’s black tailcoat and smiled cheekily at him, “That’s marginally better.”

Sebastian smiled broadly, a Cheshire grin if ever there was one, entirely amused by his master’s griping while the demon turned to face him. He was such a spoiled thing, but Sebastian wasn’t complaining; he rather liked that selfish side of the beautiful young man. That boastful self-entitlement; it made it all the sweeter to gain his _willing_ submission. “My apologies, I’d thought you’d appreciate the authenticity,” he said, reaching to smooth out the unwanted wrinkles in the dress. He pulled back once he’d finished, leaving the distinct scent of himself on the young man. He patted his pocket where Ciel had stashed the obscene undergarments and leveled his gaze with his master’s, demeanor sobering in seconds.

Sensing eyes on them, he leaned in towards Ciel, pressing his lips to the side of his neck and sliding his hands around his waist. “A word of caution butterfly, be careful with your words and the tone you take while speaking here. While I find your rebellious nature amusing, others here will not take kindly to it; some of the beings here could rival even me. The moment you feel threatened, you must not hesitate to call for me, even if you only think it. Nothing here is as it seems,” he warned, the words a wash of hot breath on Ciel’s skin. 

Sebastian’s warm breath whispering on his bare neck should have sent shivers of pleasure hastening through his body; instead, an authentic chill of apprehension had Ciel’s heart racing at the thought of something here being able to best his servant. He scanned the room, looking from under his false lashes, ensuring he didn’t make eye contact with anyone. _Nothing was as it seems, was it?_ One striking woman stood so close to him that the hem of their skirts touched; her long black silky hair and her milky skin embellished with a dusting of glitter was enough to make any present woman (or cross-dressing boy) feel inadequate. And if that wasn’t enough to fan the flames of envy, her tiniest of waists in the red silk gown she wore only accentuated her ample decolletage and equally proportioned hips. She walked away, having finished discussing something with another guest, and Ciel’s gaze fell upon Sebastian’s as the demon followed her swaying hips out of their immediate line of sight. 

He elbowed his date, feeling the faint stirrings of jealousy lick at his pride, “I look like a prepubescent girl dressed like this; just remember that the moment you start thinking with your other head,” he grumbled, looking at his reflection in the expansive, gold gilt mirrors that made up the walls in the ballroom. Shock forced his eyes to widen and he whipped his head around to the crowd; sure enough the room was at capacity, it looked almost difficult to maneuver with the amount of bodies. Yet, when he looked in the mirror again, at least two-fifths of them were not visible. 

“Vamps, Sebastian? Come now, you can take on the undead, can’t you?” Ciel whispered, arching his eyebrow even though he knew the demon could not see it behind his mask. “And for the love of all that is _holy_ , just because I can’t smell it, doesn’t mean that I don’t know that you’re marking me as your possession when you touch me like that. How are we going to figure out why we’ve been summoned here if you’re advertising me as your plaything?”

“What did I say sweetling? Not everything you see or don’t see is what it appears. Better to mark you than leave you entirely vulnerable. Pets may play, but it’s best their masters be known. You needn’t be jealous love, if you could see the true faces, you’d not worry; trust me, I’ve no interest in any others when I’m rather invested already,” the demon said, eyes flashing as he pulled away and straightened his clothing.

“Give me your orders before I leave you butterfly,” he said after he’d finished. He had permission to act on his own, but he wanted to be certain what Ciel hoped to gain here because there was sure to be far more going on than a simple unholy class reunion. He could sense his kin; no doubt that they were watching.

“I’m under the assumption that we weren't summoned to perform an exorcism; no name was provided after all,” Ciel frowned, biting his lip. Their presence had clearly been requested for a reason, it just wasn't apparent yet. The thought of letting things happen naturally didn't sit well with him while being among the unnatural, or the supernatural depending on how you looked at it. “You're definitely seeing something I'm not, of the individuals present, am I the only one of my kind?”

“You aren’t. There are a number of humans here, as far as I can see, chalices and pets and merchandise. As I said, be cautious young master, mortal life is merely currency here. I will investigate the host of this evening’s events and the attendees. Do try to stay out of trouble butterfly,” Sebastian said, reaching out to thumb Ciel’s cheek beneath the delicate framing of his mask, “Remember what I’ve said. Do not be reckless my love.” He disappeared into the crowd immediately after he’d spoken his final piece, forcibly ignoring the urge to return to Ciel’s side. This assignment was far more dangerous than the first had been and he was suspicious. He trusted the _holy men_ even less than he trusted his kin. There was something more to this and he would get to the bottom of it one way or another.

Ciel watched Sebastian move through the crowd with inhuman grace and speed, though it did not look out of place in such a gathering. And despite having been ironically referred to as a _pet_ by the demon, and the multiple warnings that his _master_ had given him, Ciel resolutely refused to stand around and do nothing. Thankful that the heels gave him an additional five inches, he was able to spot a luxuriously elegant table nearby, complete with what appeared to be a champagne fountain and a variety of flutes, tumblers and tulips waiting to be filled. 

For the first time since last summer, he was grateful that Lizzie had roped him into attending pole-dancing lessons in a bid to annoy the Marchioness Phantomhive-Midford; for his part, Ciel did not need much convincing, choosing to stand in solidarity with his cousin since he knew news of their escapades would reach a bitterly embarrassed Vincent. As he presently made his way to the table, he noticed the crowd gave him a wide berth, parting to let him through as though almost afraid of accidentally brushing elbows; he wondered if the scent that clung to him came off as dangerous or repugnant. 

Once at his destination, he assumed a feminine disposition that would match his gait and his appearance, licking his lips as he twirled a wisp of hair that fell before his mask. 

The _man_ behind the table, a bartender of sorts, bowed in Ciel’s direction, “What will it be butterfly?” he asked in a flirtatious tone. The dress-clad boy seethed on the inside, not at all impressed by this stranger’s use of his pet name; that name was reserved for one set of deliciously sinful lips. 

He guarded his irritation, minding his words and his tone as Sebastian had cautioned and tilted his head to the side to consider which drink would seem most natural to one who appeared to be of his age and purpose of attendance. The drink that flowed from the crystal tiers of the fountain radiated rainbow prisms that caught in the mirror behind the table; surely this would attract a young woman, “Something from the fountain if you please, it looks positively delightful,” he giggled, playing with the lace of his corset. 

“‘Tis indeed a lovely drink, Miss, and I daresay it would suit you,” Ciel smirked seductively, gloved digits fingering a strand of pearls, “But not without your master’s consent.”

His nostrils flared in outright indignation, but the _young woman_ simply shaped his mouth into an adorable pout instead, “Oh, that’s a shame.” 

“No, little butterfly; the shame is that your scent says you clearly belong to someone, and yet, your master is nowhere to be seen. Who would leave one such as yourself alone to tempt others?” 

_One who could kick your ass_ , Ciel thought rancorously, shrugging a shoulder and heaving an exaggerated sigh. “Aww… are there _any_ drinks available to good pets who seek only to please their masters?” 

“Of course,” the bartender said, inclining his head and pouring a generous amount of a toxic green drink into a delicate flute. 

“Two of them please,” Ciel asked impulsively, nearly forgetting to soften his tone, “One for my friend as well.” 

The bartender smiled, running his devilish pink tongue over sharpened fangs, “Very well, lovely, if your master fails to return, I’ll be happy to help both you and your friend home this evening.” Ciel curtsied, took the drinks and walked away, feigning to take a sip. If these drinks were reserved for those who acted as currency, he was sure nothing good could come from ingesting them. 

The Danse Macabre filled the hall as a small orchestra began playing and couples took to the floor. It gave Ciel the opportunity to eye the sparsely occupied tables in search of another like himself. If Sebastian was correct and there were other _chalices, pets and merchandise_ , it might be worthwhile to talk to one, figure out if they knew something; surely they would be more willing to speak to him than his _master_. Now all he had to do was look for someone who appeared the way he currently felt: awkward, out of place and miserably incomplete without his date. 

It took no time at all to find an individual who met those criteria, as he made eye contact with a solitary figure at the utmost back table. Even more ill-at-ease than he was, the young boy, at least seven or eight years his junior, was dressed in all the trappings of a grown aristocratic man: navy three-piece suit and top hat with turquoise ascot, and emerald-encrusted cane. Ciel envied him, this was more like the outfit he had wanted to wear this evening. 

He approached the young boy, watching his eyes grow rounder and wider with every step Ciel took towards him. A faint pink colour stained what could be seen of the boy’s cheeks under a beautifully intricate peacock mask. Cocking his hip before the young boy, he coyly offered him one of the drinks, “May I join you?”

Beelzebub graciously accepted the drink offered to her by the youth that interestingly enough smelled of Asmodeus, their traitorous wayward brother. Belial had assured her that both Asmodeus and his little mortal master would attend the little event she’d been volunteered to sponsor and the second prince had not left her disappointed. She cocked her head, smiled and batted her lashes shyly, giving a bashful nod of affirmation before taking a sip of the lurid concoction in the glass the disguised Phantomhive heir had given her. 

Her own costume had been a stroke of genius clearly as the young man had sought her out without any provocation on her part. How interesting… And Bell had said it was alright to have a bit of fun with the boy if she liked, just not to devour Asmodeus in the event she captured him. It’d be a pity, but it could be pleasing to instead barr him from his pretty little butterfly while she slowly tore the arrogant mortal’s soul apart.

Encouraged by the boy’s acceptance of the drink, Ciel took the seat next to him, cognizant of the fact that he was having to cross his legs in a feminine way. Now that he had the boy’s attention, he had no idea what to say to him. He’d never made it a habit to go to bars and pick up strangers, and even though he wasn't trying to seduce the young boy, Ciel still felt awkward enough about striking up a conversation. He examined the boy, his reaction to the drink and when he did not keel over or start talking in tongues, he took the smallest of sips only to wet his painted lips. At a complete loss for how to proceed, he simply re-uttered the bartender’s light banter, but in a softer, sweeter tone, “You’re quite a lovely peacock to be left on your own, where is your master?”

Beelzebub giggled quietly and shook her head, her freckled nose wrinkling adorably as she answered airily, “Oh he’s around here somewhere, entertaining some guests I imagine. And you? I’ve never before seen you at one of these things; your first time?” She lifted a dainty hand to signal for more drinks before vermillion eyes returned to watching Ciel through her ginger-ash coloured lashes, the hand she’d signalled with now adjusting her hat and mask though it was unnecessary.

Ciel hummed in response as he inclined his head. He watched the small boy down his drink and request another as though this was something he did regularly; clearly _he_ wasn't new to these parties. “My master and I are used to attending more lively parties in the U.S. This one is somewhat drab in comparison,” he trailed off, pouting attractively, “Is there no entertainment provided?”

Beelzebub smiled charmingly, accepting a flute of the glittering drink from the fountain from a silent server dressed as a penguin who then offered the second glass on their tray to Ciel with a bow before retreating. The demon primly took a sip of the bubbly liquid within and hummed appreciatively at the taste. It was fruity and sweet, tinted with the bitterness of the essence of divinity that was a potent liquor for the unholy and an aphrodisiac for the mortals when mixed as it was with the other elements.

“Mm, there will be just as soon as the last guests arrive. There’s promised to be quite the spectacle this year as a show of appreciation for those in attendance,” she answered idly, not elaborating on what said entertainment was to be. Who was she to ruin the carefully conceived surprise?

“I see,” he responded to the peacock’s vague comments. Something about his elusiveness was familiar, and it frustrated Ciel that he could not pin it on anything in particular. The butterfly drained his first glass and gladly accepted the glittery fountain drink; he wouldn’t take much since he was not sure what it was, but having been denied the drink earlier had aroused his petulant stubbornness and curiosity. As they sat in relative silence and more people filed into the ballroom from outside, Ciel began to notice his skin flushing without provocation and an achy swelling under his billowy taffeta skirt that made him squirm in his seat. His eyes darted around the room, trying to locate his master; no, _he_ was the master, Sebastian was _his_ , belonged to him, not the other way around. He fanned himself with his gloved hand as the other gripped his skirt, the pressure climbing from merely irksome to almost painful in just a few minutes. 

Leaving his flute nearly empty, Ciel stood, keeping a hand on the table for support as he scanned the exits for a handsome raven mask; he wasn’t sure where Sebastian had gone, but he was beyond annoyed that it was taking him quite this long to gather whatever information it was he needed. “You wouldn’t know where the washrooms are perchance?” he asked, trying to disguise his desperate tone as he appraised the boy who had drank the entirety of his own glass.

Beelzebub hummed, tipping her glass back to finish the last of her flute and licked her smiling lips as she looked at Ciel. Taking in his reddened cheeks, the increase in his heart rate and breath, and the sweetness of his sweat, he was being affected by the drink just as she had hoped. How fun…

“Oh yes, I’ll show you the way,” she offered sweetly, standing and offering the gown clad young man her own suited arm, finding the entire scenario amusing. It was clear that the boy had no idea who he was dealing with, did not quite realize the very real danger he was in. 

Ciel practically towered over the young man who offered to show him the way to the loo, and he was reassured by the fact that if it came down to it, and the boy tried to take advantage of his present state, that he could probably take him. “Thank you!” he said in a breathless tone as they made their way down the hall of mirrors and passed a set of men’s and women’s washrooms. When Ciel opened his mouth to point it out, the little peacock merely mumbled something about _those being for masters_. 

The longer it took them to locate the lavatory, the more Ciel’s hold tightened around the boy’s arm, the more his arousal intensified. Not since being with Sebastian had his longing been so acute, so powerful; but he would not call for his lover, would not even think of it- not dressed this way, not for the demon to tease him for his human vulnerabilities. He just needed to be alone, would just sit in the stall for some moments, away from increasingly alluring scents, and if he needed to, he would relieve himself of the burning sensation between his legs. The boy stopped in front of an ornate door, and Ciel noticed his gaze shift, as though making sure they wouldn’t be caught sneaking into some forbidden area.

The crossdressed demon watched Ciel squirming out of the corners of her eyes, a self indulgent Cheshire smile on her rose-petaled lips. She looked back and forth idly before casting a secretive little smirk at Ciel again and pushed the doors open. The chambers behind the doors were opulent, spacious and vividly adorned, but it could hardly be appreciated when one looked inside at the writhing bodies. There were a number of vampires fucking while feasting on purchased chalices, humans participating in all manner of debauched acts, abused and abusing, in front of an eager audience, a cacophony of moans, cries and begging sobs, inhuman growls, snarls and grunts sounding repeatedly in a looped echo through the rooms.

 

Farther, at the back of the chambers, a group of lavishly dressed people ranging in age and with alluring ethereal gazes sat playing a game of cards the likes of which Ciel had likely never seen, betting with incandescent glittering human souls, mortal pets curled or playing about their feet, humanoid, but void of humanity. A number of the occupants turned to look when Beelzebub threw open the doors and she feigned a blush and sheepish smile. “Oopsies, didn’t realize the festivities had already begun. Don’t mind them little butterfly, follow me… Unless you’d like to stay?” she offered innocently, eyeing Ciel with wide sunset eyes and resting her other hand over his in the crook of her arm, grip inhuman and immovable.

Pornography had never been anything that had tempted Ciel before, he’d never been able to overlook the falsity and machination of the industry. But this, the sight of actual bodies writhing and moving together, against one another, along with the sounds of debauchery and violent pleasure were dominating his ability to think clearly and it was like adding fuel to the desire that already consumed him like a blaze. In a nervous gesture, he unconsciously ran a hand through his hair, and forgetting it had been delicately pinned, it came undone, making him appear almost as disheveled as those participating in the carnal activities. He bit a gloved finger, considering his options; the baser instincts he’d only become acquainted with in recent weeks screamed at him to find his release here, while his brain begged for his composure, pressed him to remember he was on assignment and that this was likely the reason they had been summoned. “Lead the way,” he said, only now realizing how tight the boy’s grip had become; it seemed he had little choice in the matter.

Beelzebub’s smile broadened, showing rows of decidedly vicious, jagged white teeth as she lead Ciel further into the room, the doors closing of their own accord behind them. “Right this way… Do you like to gamble _miss_ butterfly?” she asked in a light and teasing tone, turning her gaze to the card players ahead of them.

Despite the difficulty Ciel had at remaining focused, he did not miss the inhuman smile that had spread across the otherwise cherubic face of the young boy. He’d been taken, the boy had no master, the boy was his own master. It made no difference now, he was in too deep, and would offer himself up as bait until such a time he would deem it appropriate to call on Sebastian. “It depends,” he said, dropping the higher tone with which he had spoken all evening, “What are the odds, and what do I stand to gain from winning?”

“Well, the stakes are rather high. You stand to gain freedom, relief and immortality if you win, but if you lose, excruciating death and the endless torture of your immortal soul or at least the soul you wager. Surely, such a _divine_ dish like yourself has more than their own soul to wager. If you’re nervous, perhaps you’d like to play for something a little lighter, say _fulfillment_ for the evening with yours truly. I would love to know what Azzy sees in you and I’m sure I can sate you should you win. Think of it as a “getting to know you” exercise. I’ll know you _inside_ and out before we’re through,” the female demon explained in a coy tone, sharklike grin still in place and as sharp as razors, clearly amused by her own games. She wondered how long the stubborn little creature would hold out before he called Asmodeus to his side and gave himself away entirely. “What do you say darling, are you feeling lucky?”

Ciel snorted, most unlady-like. “That’s a shame,” he said, crossing his arms over his corset and giving the boy before him an exaggerated appraisal from head to toe, “The prize you offer for the beginner’s game seems a little underwhelming considering what I’ve gotten used to.” He had no soul with which to gamble since it had already unadmittedly been promised to his demon for consumption; and between an undesirable prize and having no currency, it seemed pointless for him to stay, “I’ll be taking my leave, now.”

Beelzebub began to laugh and laugh, going so far as to fold in on herself and hold her middle. "Oh you are most amusing for such a fragile little _bug_. So stubborn, but I'm afraid you are mistaken. You aren't going anywhere _Lady Phantomhive_. I want to play my games and I want you to play with me. You seem like an entertaining plaything," she said in a sickly sweet, but dangerous tone, reaching to cup his cheek, greenish nails sharp and warning against his skin. The emerald top hat and feathered mask melted from her face, revealing the pale, angular features, adorable freckles and eyes like marigolds, alive with greedy flame. "Why don't you want to play with me? Am I not to your taste? It's the teeth isn't it? My brothers are always telling me they put you squeamish little mortals off, but you see, I just adore the screaming when they're breaking skin."

Ciel shook his face out of the demon’s grasp, her nails scraping against his cheek, leaving behind two long streaks from right ear to chin. The clawed hand had been swift and sharp, had left a faint residual sting and the slight pain had done nothing to dull his ever-present arousal; if anything, it had heightened it. Beads of warm liquid ran down his face, dripping onto his clavicle and he became aware of an intermittent cessation of fucking and moaning as heads whipped around to take notice of the blood that had been spilled. A distinct perception of his being prey among a room of predators had him wiping his face and upper chest with the back of his hand, unsure if he had gotten rid of the evidence or if he had smeared it more appealingly for the vampires. “They are a little garish,” he responded, tight-lipped and nodding towards the boy’s teeth as he took a seat at a nearby card table. At this point, there was very little he could do but play with the demon, and collect as much information as possible to report back to his employer, “So what are we playing?”

Beelzebub hummed, a mischievous light inflaming the serpentine ochred amber of her eyes. “Perhaps, this is more to your taste,” she said, batting thick red-gold lashes at the exorcist. Ciel had only blinked to wet his eyes, but when he looked back at the young boy, there was no boy at all, but a young girl had taken his place, thick strawberry blonde curls, loosely pinned with pink pearls fell over her bared shoulders, a tight-laced pink bodice accented in black over her barely budding bosom and ruffled white lace and pink silk skirt. The ensemble was concluded with black laced boots to her knees and cute fluffy knickers beneath the layers of her dress. She sat in the seat across from the young man and when she smiled, her teeth were a straight row of human white and her small nose wrinkled adorably, drawing attention to the fine dusting of freckles over its bridge.The innocence was broken only by the feline and predatory nature of her unholy gaze.

“The game we will play is called Devil’s Cut,” she said conversationally, picking up the deck of cards that had not been on the table top only moments ago and began to shuffle what appeared to be blank-faced cards with dark winged angels on their backs.

Liar’s Poker he could do and quite aptly, as with Blackjack, Glückshaus and even Xóc Đĩa… But this _Devil’s Cut_ was not familiar to him. He doubted very much that he would be fairly instructed and figured the winner had already been predetermined. “And how does one play Devil’s Cut?” he lingered as he slid his mask back onto his head where it kept his hair out of his face and revealed the contract seared brightly into his eye, “Sorry, but it seems rather rude that you know exactly who I am, but that I don't even have your name.”

Beelzebub clicked her tongue and wagged a finger at the young man, “Ah-ah, clever little insect. There’s too much power in a name for me to give it to you so easily. You may call me Doll, all my _friends_ do. You seem nervous, perhaps this will put you more at ease.” Her appearance changed again to that of his lover, the guise so strikingly, hauntingly familiar, the only tell being the eye colour that was so clearly not his Sebastian’s. The female demon smiled his smile and chuckled huskily the familiar sound of his demon’s amusement. 

And when she spoke further, it was with his voice, “This game is quite simple… I, the _Devil_ , cut the deck, like so.” she demonstrated, slim, pale fingers separating the cards into three piles and fanning each pile out in a circular spread, “You draw three, one from each pile, place them face down before you, then I shall draw three for myself. This game is a game of truths and lies. I flip one of your cards and read what’s been placed upon it. You then tell me if it is a truth or a lie. Beware though, if you lie and I catch you, there will be retribution. When my turn is over, you turn one of mine and ask me a deep dark question to which you’d like an answer, barring _my_ name of course,” she explained, gesturing to the fanned out cards, “Whenever you’re ready _young master_.”

Ciel shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The last thing he needed was a visual reminder of his lover; and _Doll_ knew it too. He uncrossed and recrossed his legs, fighting against the urge to admire the figure before him or to reach for the demon’s hands and direct them to where they could soothe, squeeze, fill... _Damn it! When was this sensation going to end?_ He tore his gaze from the long slender, soot-tainted fingers and was somewhat relieved to find vivid acidic-orange irises smiling brightly at him.The subtle eye difference was enough to subdue his want for the moment. “If you're going for authenticity, you might want to tone it down a little Chuckles; my demon isn't quite so cheery.” 

Refusing to acknowledge the demon by her given name tasted like a small victory, and was likely the only one Ciel was to experience. His hands ghosted over the fanned out cards and selected one from each pile; there was no point in prolonging his role in this game, since the odds had already been stacked against him.

Beelzebub smiled broadly, honeyed tangerine eyes glittering through the dark veil of thick lashes, “Yes, that’s true. Azzy always did have a unique sense of humour,” she answered cheerily, the tone odd in Sebastian’s voice. Sebastian’s amusement was much richer and velvety in his voice when he found something of humour.

She gingerly plucked her own cards and laid them out with quick, familiar motions, making them snap lightly against the table as she flattened them before her. She then folded her fingers together, resting her chin on the entangled digits and looked at the boy expectantly, “Do be a dear and flip one over for me. You seemed quite in such a rush just a moment ago.”

Ciel’s gaze never left the three cards he’d selected; it made it easier to catch the subtle differences in the demon’s voice. Her pitch, cadence and timber were all wrong to actually be Sebastian, and these discrepancies helped dull the ache in him somewhat. 

“Fine,” he said, tapping the tip of his pointer finger over the three cards nineteen times as he mumbled eeny-meeny to himself, “This one.” He pushed it against the tabletop towards the false Sebastian, then rested his head against his hand, eying the demon suspiciously.

“Good choice miss butterfly, let’s see here,” the doppelganger Sebastian said almost gleefully, leaning forward to flip the card over and look it over as the previously blank face became coloured, distorted with images that moved of their own accord, a string of odd runes that were similar to, but not aramaic flickering throughout. 

 

“Hmm,” Beelzebub hummed, leaning back and placing one soot-tipped finger to her borrowed lips, “You’ve stolen something precious and you are squandering it. You don’t deserve the gift you’re being offered. You’re going to pay for your theft in the end,” she said, seeing in the words and symbolic imagery the portrait of Ciel’s contract with Asmodeus, the full extent, the lusts he’d allowed to be sated, but still denied as anything more than that. He was lying to himself and to her wayward brother. What a selfish, entitled little brat he was to have bound the demon as his lover and demanded redemption from him, but denied him thus. “Selfish _child_ , just like all your kin, you beg for his touch and still deny his love,” she accused, cocking her head and watching him, waiting to see if he would affirm or deny her words.

Ciel craned his neck, but only slightly, to view the image the demon was pulling its information from. Just as with Tarot readers, it seemed to be gleaming a lot more than was explicitly portrayed on the card, except with unswerving accuracy. He’d stolen many things, had locked them all up, Sebastian included. That way, they couldn’t be misused; he would save them in this fashion. He couldn’t deny how much he craved the demon’s closeness, how he longed to be sated sexually, and to be cherished despite his love of the macabre and sacrilegious, but love… his love… Sebastian’s love? No. Hadn’t the servant already told him that demons and mortals did not share in their views of love? Ciel was not denying anything Sebastian was actually capable of feeling. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, his hands turning palms up in an attempt to seem unaffected, “I never asked for the gift of which you say I’m undeserving. It was passed on to me like a hand-me-down and if I’m not gracious enough or thankful enough for this _gift_ , well, you know what they say, _the sins of the fathers, shall be visited upon by the sons_.”

Beelzebub clicked her tongue in a strikingly familiar chastising manner. "But you did traitorous little bug. When you labeled him lover instead of weapon and wrote it in your blood. You _begged_ for him. And the sin by which you'll inevitably meet your end is yours alone. As I understand it, your father got his and surely your mother's soon to join him, might already have, but who's to say? Have you spoken to sweet Rachel lately?" she asked, leering as she leaned forward, reaching out one hand to grasp Ciel's left while her other swiftly pulled a long needle from behind her left ear. She pinned the young man's hand to the table and pierced the needle straight through the back of his hand to the table beneath with such speed, the pain was delayed several seconds passed when the blood beaded and wound over his skin in sanguine currents to pool beneath his palm. "Lying deserves punishment and punishment is best delivered with swift pain don't you think?" she said conversationally, a sinister grin upon her forged lips.

“Whore!” he barked in pain at the demon, resisting the temptation to yank his hand away. The needle had been razor sharp and any attempt by him to pull his hand free would most likely result in more damage, possibly of the neural sort. “You leave my mother out of this!” He hadn’t lied to the demon bitch, not really. He’d not meant for the contract to be amended, he’d been unconscious, and whatever the demons thought about blood covenants, in the human world, that kind of nonsense wouldn’t hold up in court.

The demoness laughed as he cursed at her. His mother had made her bed as surely as his father had and so too would receive her penance in good time, regardless of the childish threatened indignation. He could save her no more than he could save himself. 

Ciel pushed through the pain, and with his other hand reached over the table, presumptuously grabbed hold of a card in front of the demon and slammed it face up. He took a moment to examine its imagery through the steady flow of tears that were involuntarily streaming down his face and recognized a variety of motifs stemming from old religious symbology: desire, hunger, longing, thirst; in short they all pointed to _Lust_ “You keep referring to Azzy when talking about Sebas- my _servant_ , I’m assuming it’s a cute pet name you have for him- what’s his real name?”

Mirth danced in the burnt gold of Beelzebub’s eyes and she slowly rolled the pin head between her borrowed fingers, twisting it torturously in Ciel’s skin. “How romantic he’d not tell you himself; he’d rather answer to the insult of the mortal name you besmirched him with, would rather hide his true nature in the hopes to have his love returned. The poor thing… I bet his suffering is exquisite,” she sighed wistfully, cupping her chin in her unoccupied palm, “His true name...The name his _rightful_ family gave him is Asmodeus, the favoured third son of sin… Though not so favoured now as he was then.”

“Mm.. ugh…” Ciel muffled his laments between tightly-pressed lips as his left arm shook to accompany the burning sensation that shot up that appendage. _Not yet. Not yet. So close._ He willed his mind to work faster, to see what he was missing, trying to recall seven years of studying in one minute... _Asmodeus, Asmodeus_ , he mumbled the name, taking in the phony Sebastian, though still handsome, still desirable, _Lust_. What a surprise. Not as much a surprise as the righteous indignation Ciel felt coming off the demon before him, such hatred for the Phantomhives, for the entrapment of one of their own. If Sebastian- Asmodeus was the third son of sin, then this demon, who played games in excess, who surrounded itself with incessant fucking and insatiable vampires could only be the fifth in line of his family - “I’m done playing your game now, Beelzebub, take that fucking thing out of my hand.”

The guise fell away back to the young girl in the ruffled dress, the human form of gluttony, Beelzebub bore her jagged teeth at the young man and viciously yanked the needle out of his flesh. “Tricky, tricky, tricky little butterfly. You best be careful or someone just might maim you,” she said as she drew the needle tip to her tongue, beads of Ciel’s bittersweet blood crying from it to the eager muscle below. She hummed her approval and proceeded to lick the silver pin clean. “What a delightful flavour, no small wonder Asmodeus was swayed. Speaking of the devil, you might like to give him a ring, bleeding is a rather deadly thing to be caught doing here without protection,” she said once she’d finished and the needle slid into the flesh of her wrist as if it was natural, nestling itself familiarly beneath her skin. She grinned at him and looked over his shoulder at all the eyes turned their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 Blooper Reel
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Four*
> 
>  **Ciel _(Curses under his breath at the endless London rain, broken plans with Lizzie and a new work assignment?)_ :** Nope! _(he pulls down his suspenders, unbuttons his shirt and takes it off)_ Nope! _(toes off his shoes)_ Hell to the no! _(he struggles with the button on his pants, then lets them pool at his feet and steps out of them and is left in his underwear)_ Fuck that shit _(he pushes back the sheets off his bed, climbs in and hides under them)_ Today’s been officially cancelled, I’m going back to bed.
> 
>  **Sebastian:** You read my mind love. _(Clothing melts off)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Six*
> 
>  **Sebastian:** It seems Lady Elizabeth has already taken her leave my lord, and not too soon as it seems your _holy_ employers have another chore for you. _(hands Ciel the letters he’s retrieved from the mail)_
> 
>  **Ciel:** But did I receive a large package?
> 
>  **Sebastian _(Pulls his pants down and whips it out)_ : ** Yes, it’s being hand-delivered as we speak _(Dick in a box by Lonely Island plays in the back background)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Phantomhive London Townhouse- Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Ten*
> 
>  **Ciel _(Before Sebastian can get out of his reach, he tries to swallow his food, but chokes then coughs and sputters, pieces of food flying into Sebastian’s face. Ciel flushes and takes a napkin to casually brush the masticated food off the demon’s shoulders, cheeks, nose and forehead)_ :** Um, sorry? _(he removes a chunk from Sebastian’s hair)_
> 
>  **Sebastian _(smiles pleasantly)_ : **Forgiveness comes at a price my sweet. What are you prepared to offer me as penance?
> 
>  **Ciel:** My firstborn.
> 
>  **Sebastian _(blinks)_ : **What?
> 
>  **Ciel:** What?
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Palais de Versaille- Hall of Mirrors) Take Seventeen*
> 
>  **Sebastian:** You must not hesitate to call for me, even if you only think it… Remember what I’ve said. Do not be reckless my love _(he disappears into the crowd immediately)_
> 
> **Ciel _(observes Sebastian move through the crowd with inhuman grace and speed, then thinks his lover’s name)_ : ** Sebastian.
> 
>  **Sebastian _(no sooner returning to Ciel’s side)_ : ** Yes, my lord?
> 
>  **Ciel:** Just checking. _(watches Sebastian leave again, admiring his backside, lets him cross the room and turn the corner, then whispers)_ Sebastian. 
> 
> **Sebastian _(comes back somewhat annoyed to see Ciel smirking_ :** Yes, butterfly?
> 
>  **Ciel _(shrugging and smirking)_ :** Oh, nothing.
> 
>  **Sebastian** : you're going the right way for a smack bottom.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Palais de Versailles- Hall of Mirrors) Take Nineteen*
> 
> **Creepy Bartender _(inclines his head and pours a generous amount of toxic green drink into a delicate flute)_ : ** Of course.
> 
> **Ciel:** Two of them please, one for my friend as well.
> 
>  **Sebastian** : Awesome! We’re having a threesome?!
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_
> 
> ***
> 
> *Scene Eight “Baiting” (Palais de Versailles- the King’s Chambers) Take Twenty-One*
> 
>  **Beelzebub:** Perhaps, this is more to your taste _(bats thick red-gold lashes at Ciel and transfigures into a young girl with thick strawberry blonde curls, a tight-laced pink bodice accented in black over her barely budding bosom and ruffled white lace and pink silk skirt)_
> 
>  **Ciel:** Uhhh… _(points to himself)_ not a pedophile and gay as fuck. _(calls to the director)_ This isn’t working for me at all, I’ve even gone soft. 
> 
> _(assistant approaches Beelzebub and whispers something in her ear. Her appearance changes again to that of Sebastian)_
> 
> **Ciel _(looking down at his skirt then gives the director a thumbs up)_ :** Problem solved.
> 
>  
> 
> _Cut!_


	9. Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: You gotta have faith.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Thinking Of You by A Perfect Circle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJWM52RS7Cg&index=183&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRVHYvBYDUs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and support as always! Have another update!

Ciel felt their eyes on his back and they lingered on his pulse points in his neck, his temples, his elbows, his wrists… So many areas they could drain him; and he would be taken by several, not just the one- he didn’t stand a chance. Even after being drugged, after being perforated, it was only now that he truly felt threatened. 

With his good hand, he reached for his skirt, never taking his eyes off the sadistic smile painted on the demon’s face, and tore a good section off the bottom, wrapping it around his wound several times and tightening a knot with his teeth. Clearly it would do nothing to stop tempting the blood drinkers, but it would at least conceal some of the damage from his servant. He lowered his mask and stood, challenging the hungry eyes on him as he spoke with stubborn finality, “It’s fine, I’m bored at any rate, and Asmodeus is much better company.” He mentally summoned his lover, beckoned him to his side, but not by the name the Phantomhives had bestowed upon him, his rightful name. It lingered awkward and unfamiliar on his mental tongue, but none could mistake the impatient and demanding tone once the four syllables were spoken in their entirety.

***

Sebastian had spent his time mingling, picking up tidbits of conversation here and there amongst his kin and their pets. He was being followed, he also knew that, but could not pinpoint which costumed guest was pursuing him. It was after his master had disappeared from the ballroom that the pursuer finally made their move.

Another of his kin in the guise of a young man not unlike Ciel, beautiful, delicate and attractively angular followed him to a shaded hall where only whispers traveled on the backs of shadows. “It’s been a long time Asmodeus,” the pretty youth greeted in a smooth, decidedly sultry tone, offering Sebastian a dark filled flute of vaguely steaming liquid and a flirtatious wink of one strikingly peacock blue eye. 

Tendrils of recognition teased at Sebastian’s mind. He knew the tone, knew it well, had heard it before breathless, wanton and wanting. He had at one time known that breath and those lips on his skin so long ago now, the memory had to be excavated from the depths of his extensive library of recollections. “So it has Aloson. If you’re here, _she_ must also be. In whom might my little sister be hiding?” he replied, accepting the drink without hesitation, knowing without doubt that they would not poison him; such was too boring a manner in which to deal his punishment.

Aloson cocked his head coyly in the way Ciel often did and a thread of heat slithered beneath Sebastian’s skin as he imagined his young master in the other demon’s stead. Aloson’s form was attractive enough of course, similar, but he was not Sebastian’s butterfly; he was not the lover the elder demon craved. Aloson stepped further into Sebastian’s space, one pale, delicate, but strong hand tangling itself in the lapel of his tailcoat as the young man drew up against him. ”Let’s not worry about her right now. She’s not here. It’s just us. We’ve no masters to answer to here... You’re so tense Asmodeus. So _starved_ ,” he purred as he wrapped his arms around the back of Sebastian’s neck, fingers kneading at his skin and teasing at his hair, lips caressing against the elder demon’s ear, “We used to have such fun together, remember? What do you say you let me take care of you for old time’s sake?”

Sebastian’s body stirred much to his chagrin, but it was only because he longed to hear such words from Ciel, had denied himself for the young man’s sake and was being made to suffer for it now. It did not help that Aloson was familiar with his weaknesses, knew how to touch and excite him, but it was not what he wanted, even with the liquid that he’d ingested that made his skin ache to be broken beneath impassioned nails and teeth. Only his butterfly would do…

 

He growled lowly as the younger demon rolled his body up against him wickedly. Any time before this, before Ciel had branded him _lover_ , Sebastian would not have hesitated to take the other demon’s offer, would brutalize him until his desires were sated and lazy with it. But it was now and not before, Ciel was his master and he was _willingly_ owned by him.

It was then that he felt the harsh jerking on the bond between he and his master. Ciel was calling him, but it was almost hesitant in forming the syllables of his true moniker. He immediately tried to leave Aloson’s hold, snarled when the other male tightened his grip and whispered, “Since when are you so obedient? Stay Asmodeus, no mortal deserves to claim you.”

It happened quickly, within the span of seconds that the last word passed the pouty lips, Sebastian’s nails grew to daggers and tore through the young man’s guts. Aloson choked on his laughter, blood running between his teeth and staining his lips. Sebastian smiled back at him as his fingers curled around the other male’s spine and mercilessly yanked it back through the hole his hand had made through Aloson’s abdomen, easy enough from there to capture his essence, pry it from the broken form too swiftly for the other demon to pull himself together. 

He caged it in his fingers and drew it to his mouth, even as his wings unfurled from his back and propelled him towards the place where his master was. “Those were good times, but these ones are better. There is no comparison with my butterfly. He’s worth everything,” he said before he remorselessly swallowed the swirling ball of soot.

***

“You needn’t call me by that name, but by the one that suits your taste my lord. My name should be the one that is sweetest on your tongue,” the raven demon said silkily as he slipped into the space between Ciel and Beelzebub, vampires dropping with silent screams and dull thuds, silver butter knives through the backs of their necks and protruding out their throats.

He eyed Beelzebub predatorily and she hissed at him. She was as quick and deadly as he was, but she tired easier and her strengths lay in her illusions which were useless on him. He reached for her, but he grasped only the smoky coolness of her shadow and he felt the sting of her tainted needles in a searing arch down his spine. He snarled and growled, but the more he moved, the more the needles seemed to burrow inwards, releasing their toxins and setting his blood on fire and he finally registered the scent of Ciel’s intense arousal with acute clarity. What games were these?

He hissed harshly, cursing her in tongues as she called back the needles from his flesh with torturous slowness. “What did you do Azzy? Did you… you ate my precious Ally didn’t you? How could you big brother?” Beelzebub shrieked, her face reddened with anger, anguished tears shimmering in her tangerine eyes. “You deserve the suffering Luci has planned for you. And more… So much more for abandoning your blood for this little insect. He’s not so pretty,” she sniffed, but Sebastian wasn’t listening, glad for her distraction so that he might launch an attack of his own, sending a wash of glass from broken windows, glassware and decor careening towards her. 

She screeched and covered her face with her arms and he lashed out with deadly claws then, using his wings to shield his master from her view and the bite of her barbed weapons. She spit at him like an animal, bore her wicked teeth and cursed him in a thousand languages of the dead. She’d gotten lucky the once when he’d been distracted; she may well get lucky again if she drew his attentions elsewhere. She let out a low thrumming hiss, feinted to the left and went right when he lunged for her, catching only her shadow once again like she’d hoped he would. 

And she laughed as she sent another spray of needles towards his unguarded lover.

***

Blood dropped over the marbled floor as Sebastian panted over Ciel, his wings spread in an arcing shield, battered and pock-marked with needles that pulsed and faded slowly. His eyes were liquid crimson like candlelit pools of blood, shaded darkly beneath thick lashes, fanged teeth clenched in a possessive and protective display as his aura spread menacingly around him, sending the lesser beings fleeing in terror from the building in a fit of panicked mayhem and before he could capture her, Beelzebub melted back into the multitude of faces, leaving only the echoing of her laughter in her wake.

Ciel casually kept his eyes open as though demon fights were something he witnessed on a daily basis. He refused to flinch or get out of harm’s way, confident that Sebastian’s speed and dexterity would keep their covenant in tact. The youth would also not give the patron demon of Gluttony another excess in the form of his fear on which to feed. Sebastian’s wings surrounding him so possessively were nearly as overwhelming as the silence befalling the room and their proximity only heightening his painful arousal. In the demon’s haste to shield him, Ciel had been thrown back violently, legs sprawled, eyes widened in shock and outrage; and from where he sat, he could see the demon hurt and bleeding, could make out the lust behind the crimson cat-slitted eyes and knew he had very little time before they would both succumb to their urges. 

Coming to his feet without using the hand offered to him for help, the young master took in the demon whose protective and possessive position had left him bowed on one knee. A decent lover would have accepted the help, a good one would have sang the demon’s praise for his devotion; but Ciel was neither decent or good. He was a petulant and demanding master, still torn between his indignation of having been carelessly pushed during Sebastian’s rescue attempt and even more resentful for the servant having _forgotten_ to tell him his true identity. So what if Ciel was _selfish_ , as Beelzebub had put it; he had every right to be, especially since this evening had reinforced one thing. Demons lied. His was no different. 

He repositioned his corset and mask and shifted the torn and slightly tented skirt as he cleared his voice, “Come Sebastian, I'm not leaving Versailles empty handed.” He touched the tail coat with what he thought was an affectionate gesture, felt the tears and gashes that had been caused by the piercing needles and led the way to the door, not turning his head to see if he was being followed. 

Relief rivaled his arousal when he felt the swift breeze come to a halt at his side, his arm suddenly cradled snugly against Sebastian as they made their way into the Hall of Mirrors. The ballroom was not as it was before Ciel had stupidly followed the boy into the King’s Chamber. It was silent, the numbers that were reflected in the mirrors now matched those on the dancefloor, the _pets_ were now missing from their masters sides, and the eyes behind the masks now held a sated expression. Ciel shivered and clung to his lover with a firmer hold and walked decidedly towards the exit. 

The cold pricked at his exposed skin the moment they were outside, but it might have been the goosebumps that had risen once the music resumed the moment the door had shut behind them, as though waiting for their departure to continue whatever debaucherous acts Sebastian’s quarrel had interrupted. 

He shook off the sickening sensation that made itself at home in his mouth and led them resolutely to the Royal Chapel where he'd heard rumours of a precious object being hidden in its midst. Yesterday, Soma had suggested he sneak away from the ball to check it out if the opportunity presented itself. As it hadn’t, he was taking it now. Ciel stifled a whine as he pulled away from Sebastian, still craving the contact and nearness, his body quivered with the effort it took to not jump the demon where he stood. He was so raw in this form and the drug he'd ingested only amplified his ability to pick up on the potent scent of need coming off the demon’s skin.

 _Not yet_ , he scolded himself, _this wouldn't take long, he would have his way soon enough._ Knowing Sebastian was stalking him predatorily, he nodded silently towards the door, letting his servant both unlock and open the ornate hand-carved, gold-adorned entrance with the slightest touch. Once the doors blew open, Ciel abandoned the demon at the threshold and walked the length of the chapel, his heels clicking, resounding unevenly, rushed, then slow, a variable, unmelodic rhythm against the marble flooring. In answer to the jarring noise, the organ on the second level began playing, hauntingly, lovingly, the melody he'd grown accustomed to hearing since childhood. 

Despite wanting to keep his serious demeanour, a smile found its way to his lips as he fished out a lockpick set from within the laced corset. Ciel took a knee before the altar as he expertly shimmied the L-rake pick under the golden embossed design of King Louis’ dolphin. His hand shook as he tried keeping the pick steady, the fresh wound making any kind of precision near impossible. He felt the eyes on his back, knew Sebastian would help if he asked, but this was something he needed to do for himself, something that belonged to him and him alone. He swallowed, pushing through the pain and redirected his thoughts, trying to distract himself, “Are you trying to romance me with music?”

“That depends sweetling,” Sebastian replied, jeweled garnet eyes tracing along the young man’s back, licking his lips hungrily and swallowing an excess of saliva. His skin was burning, aching, twitching, crying out to be satisfied. He could smell the heady aroma of Ciel’s arousal, though the young man was doing a rather splendid job attempting to keep it at bay, to pretend he was not being consumed by base desire. They’d both been made more sensitive, unable to control and restrain the amplified onslaught of arousal that coursed in their blood and called to one another, desperately clawing to the surface. The demon _needed_ ; a vicious mix of bloodlust and sex, overstimulated by the gluttonous venom that had been injected into his skin. It would pass, but not without satiation. 

He heard Ciel snort softly, not looking at him, “On?”

Sebastian’s sharp smile spread across his mouth, his pointed fangs glittering as dangerous and bright as his blooded gaze, “Is it working?”

“Hmm…” As if the demon needed to ask. Ciel kept his back turned, knowing full-well the moment his eyes fell upon Sebastian, his restraint would be lost. Leaning his head against the cool marble of the altar, he closed his eyes, felt his breath rebound and bathe his face in warmth and sweetness. His corset felt tighter than it had all night, crushing his ribs with every inhalation. 

In his effort to compose himself, the pick fell to the ground with a clatter, bringing him back to his senses and he pushed the dolphin, first from the right, then the left, loosening it sufficiently to rotate it one-hundred and eighty degrees. He stood, and leaned his hip against it, bending over to tap the clear box inlay, _shallow, thin glass, perfect._ He removed a stilettoed shoe and drove it quick into the surface, using the heel to clean the periphery and remove the item from within. The item was a wedding gift from the King to Marie Antoinette, who, like Ciel was, had been an avid collector of infamous holy objects. The real reason for her death had come about not due to the fickleness of her husband, but for her descent into the sacrilegious, and her possession of the perfectly preserved nail that had held Christ’s left wrist to the cross, never washed, never purified, had only been the beginning of her obsession. 

He lay it on the altar reverently, put his shoe back on and turned to face Sebastian who still stood at the entrance. Ciel wondered if he could come in without it causing him discomfort, “I suppose, but it was unnecessary,” he said finally, crooking his finger, beckoning the demon with a half smile.

Sebastian hardly glanced at the item his lover had confiscated from within the altar, could smell the old blood and traces of divinity on the eternally cold iron of the spike and found it almost pleasant, nostalgic like a fond memory. Even so, it wasn’t enough to distract him from the young man and the intoxicating scent of Ciel’s yearning. When the costume clad youth answered him, a finger curling in allure, the demon felt the beast in him completely shatter the last of his already depleted restraint and he swooped in like the predatory bird he’d chosen as his inspired disguise, deadly accurate in his assault. 

His hands were firm, rough in his hold as he groped thighs and hips, hitching the young man up onto the altar, so that he could bunch up the skirt of the dress and caress greedily over the soft skin beneath. One hand kneading at Ciel’s smooth thigh, the other cupped his jaw, pushing the mask away and tangling his fingers in the young man’s already tousled hair, guiding his head back so that Sebastian could take his mouth aggressively. A low growl of pleasure thrummed in his chest as the sweetness coated his tongue and abruptly, he was pressing himself as closely as possible to the other male, pressing between his thighs to rut his painfully engorged and still trapped cock against Ciel’s eager nakedness beneath his rumpled skirt.

Ciel was caught completely off guard by the sudden onslaught of his lover’s passion; surprised but not disappointed. “Fucking finally,” he growled into the kiss, his lips and teeth clashing fiercely with Sebastian’s, tongue brushing against his lover’s and over the sharp tips of his fangs. A bittersweet, heady flavour flooded his mouth, increasing his need, making his body ache and hum in the most delicious of ways. He wrapped his legs around the demon’s waist, not letting up on him, not taking a chance to draw breath, the rumbling in his lover’s chest increasing, and the hungry possessive sound thrilled him. He pushed his head back, resting his cheek upon his lover’s, hot breath carrying to the demon’s ear, “My demon hungers, and I want to sate him. Show me how.”

Sebastian licked his lips, drew away to see the reflected desperate aching carnality in the liquid sapphire of Ciel’s eyes, mirrored in kind in his own sanguine depths. “I _must_ have you. Anything less now will not be enough,” he replied gutturally, feral fingernails prickling against the oversensitized and heated skin of Ciel’s throat and thigh respectively. He leaned in to follow the beaded rivulet of blood that spilled where the delicate flesh had broken under the stinging pressure of his fingertips and he groaned throatily at the wash of bittersweetness over his tongue, leaving a spicy aftertaste like sinful cinnamon in its wake. _Delicious…_

“I _will_ have you spread beneath me butterfly. You’ll scream for your God in his own house, while you beg _me_ for absolution. You belong to me,” he murmured hotly against the boy’s neck, nipping at the flesh, marking it with his teeth and purring his pleasure. He kissed the beating pulse in Ciel’s throat tenderly, reveling in the life there, the heady rhythm of Ciel’s heartbeat, speaking further with his lips still pressed against the young man’s skin. “To have you as I want you, I will prepare you. You touch me here, I adore the feel of your fingertips,” he guided Ciel’s hands to the half spread, inky black wings arching from his shoulders, a thrilling electric current surging through him as his master’s fingers met the thick silky plumage. 

“Not _my_ God, Sebastian,” Ciel crooned, chest heaving as his fingers along the ridges of his lover’s sleek black feathers, “ _You_ will be he god I worship from now on.” He dropped from the altar, his body sliding against the other male’s and groaned, head shooting back when he felt the press of Sebastian’s straining erection against his corset. He would obey the demon, the roles of master and servant having been reversed in this holiest of places. 

The organ had stopped playing, and as Ciel’s heels touched the ground, their sound was amplified by the echo. “Your wings are _glorious_ ,” he purred, “but I want to pleasure you, to touch you in other ways.” His other hand trailed down the demon’s neck, catching his collar and tearing his shirt buttons; each and every one bounced off the floor distinctly, louder than necessary. “Mmm… the smell of you,” it was intoxicating, mouth-watering; Ciel couldn’t help but drag his tongue over the hardened peaks of Sebastian’s nipples, to rake his teeth over the firm perfect skin. 

His naked cock throbbed, ached with desire under his skirt and he felt the precum soak through the thin material as he furiously worked the buttons that imprisoned the demon’s engorged member. “I’ll let you have your way, Asmodeus, but you _will_ use every bit of me to come undone,” the dress-clad boy said, biting his lip and pulling down the demon’s trousers as he got to his knees, peering desperately from under long dark lashes, both wanting and needing in equal measure.

“Yes, my Lord,” came the silky response, the demon’s eyes on Ciel’s perfect pout and rouged lips. He reached forward, thumbed beneath them and drew them apart gently, his other hand guiding his aching cock to that delectable little orifice, body buzzing with electricity, eager to plunder and claim that cherubic mouth in ways he had only fantasized previously. He watched his glistening tip brush those sweet, stained lips, felt the sharp inhale of Ciel’s breath in response to the caress, smiled wickedly as he tangled his fingers in the boy’s dark hair, and following his butterfly’s demand, breached them in one swift motion, neither violent, nor gentle, but somewhere in between. He wanted to give his master what he wanted, wreck him without truly damaging him and somehow managed to find the balance between his nature and his deeper yearnings as he drove himself inside Ciel’s mouth, finding the kiss of inexperienced teeth to only entice him further.

Sebastian’s restraint in pushing himself into the welcoming and willing mouth of his master was only slightly overshadowed by the spicy cocoa liqueur flavour that smeared against Ciel’s flattened tongue. It burned and tingled pleasantly, searing a path as it spread excruciatingly slow, made him crave it, become intoxicated by it. The virgin mouth did not go out of its way to accommodate his lover’s sizable cock; but felt each ridged inch drive through the tightness, adding to the friction and heat that had Sebastian’s eyes looking every bit the demon he was. 

Tipping his head back slightly, Ciel took in the entire length of the servant; felt him hit the back of his throat, then still. The urge to submit made the young master’s bones weak as the demon looked down on him with crimson slitted eyes that promised brutality. In that moment, he envied Sebastian, coveted his ability to make his desires known without speech; all Ciel could do with his mouth full was plead, beg with watery eyes, moan around the girth, grip his hips with nails that cut into the demon’s flesh, hope that in return he would know to pull his hair, drill his delicious cock roughly into his hungry mouth and fuck his throat raw.

Sebastian saw the desire, could smell it, _taste_ it in Ciel’s bittersweet sweat and he smiled wickedly at the young man. His hand stroked through the soft, vaguely damp strands of Ciel’s hair with deceptive gentleness. His dark-stained fingers crept through the silky locks to the back of Ciel’s head and abruptly fisted there, using the grip to roughly guide his head back and keep it still. His other hand curled over the back of Ciel’s neck, thumb caressing over his pounding pulse repeatedly and he only paused to admire his butterfly a moment before his desires and Ciel’s compelled him to move. So he did, hips withdrawing slowly, a rumbling purr rolling through his chest in response to the inevitable suction and velvety caress of his master’s tongue over the contours of his ridged cock. Just as Ciel let out a soft whine, Sebastian’s hips snapped forward, back, forward again, finding a harsh, but steady rhythm.

Ciel kept his eyes glued to the demon’s, his hands securely groping his lover’s backside, felt each and every flexing and tightening of the muscles there with each thrust into his relaxed throat. A steady stream of muffled moans spilled from around the demon’s cock, encouraging Sebastian to press himself deeply and repeatedly into his mouth, snapping and accelerating until Ciel’s shallow nose breathing could no longer keep up with the speed and he gagged. 

Before Sebastian could pull out completely, Ciel’s hand gripped the engorged base, holding the head of the cock between his swollen lips and tangled his tongue around it from within his abused mouth. He pulled his head back and a satisfying pop echoed in the chapel. The demonic cock pulsed in his hand as he savagely squeezed the shaft and he admired the way precum poured from the slit, how it glistened down the length and over the protruding ridges and veins. He flattened his tongue against it, unwilling to waste any of the sweet essence and licked his way up, his hungry liquid sapphire gaze meeting the predatory one of his lover overhead. 

The demon looked on edge, as though things were not progressing fast enough, and it made Ciel smirk; he spit into his hand and worked the shaft, strangling, twisting and pumping it at a brutal pace as his mouth swallowed the angry red tip again.

Sebastian growled, tugged at Ciel’s hair and shifted his hips as he watched the young man work his cock eagerly, the crimson glowing like hot coals behind the curtain of hooded lashes. So pretty while on his knees, working that sharp little tongue of his in such a sinfully greedy manner. So willing, so wanting, aching, desired and desiring… Perfect. It was Ciel in his purest, most honest form, flushed with lust and begging for penance on his knees at the demon’s feet; divine sinner, beautiful. He very suddenly could not wait longer, had not the patience to endure the coy teasing. He needed to take him, claim him, wreck and remake him, consume and be consumed, too potent with the thrill of their actions here in the chapel, a marriage of sacrilege, built on holy and unholy foundations and only fueled further by the flames of the venom in his veins.

He seized Ciel’s shoulders, lifted him effortlessly to his feet and had him spread on the altar again before Ciel could do more than gasp a sharp intake of breath. He didn’t waste time, one hand pressing firmly against Ciel’s belly to keep him pinned while his other slid along the underside of one smooth thigh and pushed it up and out, and his head dipped down, disappearing beneath the folds of the young man’s skirt. He mouthed at his thighs, biting the tender flesh roughly, drawing some blood and leaving lovingly deep maroon bruises in his wake as he sought the delectable little orifice between the plump cheeks of his master’s rear. He would prepare him, return his teasing and devour him all at once and he was eager to hear the blasphemy that would echo off the holy architecture from his butterfly’s exquisite mouth.

Ciel’s toes curled within the heeled shoes and they fell to the floor with a clatter. Spikes of pleasure ran through him as the demon sucked and nipped at his skin. He moaned and cries tumbled clumsily from his lips. His back arched off the altar, and his hands desperately sought something, anything to grab onto; they found the musty holy book, a chalice, and both were thrown off, _useless_! Sweaty hands slid against the smooth marble surface again, the makeshift bandage coming loose and falling as they stretched overhead and felt the rough, grainy texture; they clung fiercely, nails digging in, wood crumbling under their pressure. His head rolled back as his eyes fell on the massive crucifix that dominated the front of the room, appropriately casting its shadow upside down over him. “Oh, God! Please Sebastian! Stop teasing me,” he pleaded, chest heaving, “Take me, take whatever you want, whatever you need… just do it now!”

“Shhh, patience butterfly… Always in such a rush,” Sebastian cooed from between Ciel’s thighs, body twitching and humming, eager to follow the command, but he did not want to tear his delicate little lover apart, certainly wanted to wreck him, but with pleasure, not senseless pain. It wouldn’t be long before he had him prepared to his liking. He pressed his lubricated tongue to the twitching little entrance, circled over it and prodded at it. It gave eagerly beneath the pressure of his tongue, greedily invited him further in and the serpentine appendage wasted no time in prying Ciel open further, purring his guttural approval at the flavour of the human’s body. 

Ciel panted, his head thrashed from side to side at the gentle intrusion. He tried sitting up, wanted to stand to force the issue by bending over the altar for the demon, but Sebastian’s hand held steady on his belly, not even letting him wiggle. He slung his legs over the strong shoulders and pressed his heels into the demon’s back, trying to push him more deeply into the tight heat, but Sebastian’s head was steady, resisting. He had begged. Had ordered the servant. None of it had worked. So desperate was he to be wrecked, that he resorted to guilting the demon, in a feeble, breathless voice, “Don’t you want me, Sebastian?”

The demon pulled back, licking his lips and meeting the heavy lidded and hazy sapphire gaze. Both of his hands slid beneath Ciel’s skirt, up the sides of his thighs to his hips, massaging firmly there and using the grip to draw Ciel to the edge of the altar. He pressed his own flush against the young man’s lubricated and stretched entrance, bowing over him, wings a thick, inky canopy overhead, and pressed his mouth to the side of Ciel’s as he answered in a feral tone, “Precious butterfly, I _ache_ for you. Can’t you feel my desire? Shall I show you?” He ground his erection against the slicked and needy little hole, the ridges rubbing teasingly back and forth over it.

Ciel released his grip on the wooden crucifix and his injured hand pulsed in agony. He came up on his elbows, hissed at the pressure between his legs and scowled petulantly at the demon, “I’m not sure anymore, you’ve made me wait so long, lover.”

Sebastian’s chuckle was silky and breathy, hot against Ciel’s skin and he didn’t reply verbally. Suddenly and with brutal accuracy, he embedded himself inside the young man. He growled low and feral in his chest as he sank inside the gripping virgin heat and mouthed at Ciel’s neck aggressively. “Feel it now sweetling?” he murmured huskily, rocking his hips back and driving them forward again immediately, nails digging into Ciel’s thighs and hips harshly, bunching the skirt at his waist deliciously.

“Hah… Sebastian!” Ciel screamed in answer. “Yes… feel it… more!” he demanded through ragged breaths, feeling the stretch and painful, pleasuring burn. His hands shot out, reaching, grabbing at his lover’s tailcoat, trying to convey that it _needed_ to come off. His arms wound around the demon’s neck, his legs encircled his waist, ankles locking together as he was rocked so hard and fast that he was momentarily weightless, being lifted off the altar with each thrust.

The demon smiled against Ciel’s throat, teeth prickling against delicate skin, tasting at his pulse, purring his approval huskily. Sebastian’s fingers bruised Ciel’s hips and thighs as he rocked in and out of him, shifting his angle and the rigidity of his cock to better suit his partner, expertly finding Ciel’s prostate and exploiting it ruthlessly as the speed and harshness of his thrusts increased exponentially. It was delicious inside him, burning, silky tight, perfect, as though the sheath had been made for him, and the sounds the young man was making, the wrecking of his voice, moans, panting, beautiful and addicting; the way his master clung to him, desperate, begging and possessive, so fierce and so pure in his desire. Ciel was made for him; irreplaceable and in so little time or had it been since forever? And even as he took him on the holy altar, he could taste no soot in his soul, only that bittersweet divinity that marked him still untainted. Ciel was blessed by a god that he had forsaken. Blessed by God and loved by a devil. What chaos; what irony… What _romance_ …

Ciel could see nothing but the demon, nothing but the silky black plumage enshrouding them in near obscurity; but he could see Sebastian’s eyes, make out their fiery depths, their ferociousness and it made him feel whole, loved, adored. 

Sebastian’s name on his lips was divine rather than sacrilegious; each syllable purifying like a confession, an appeal to Heaven for redemption, a prayer; and it was answered with every thrust, with every scream and profanity the demon pulled out of him. The din so loud, so enraptured and the vastness of the room delayed the echo, making it sound like a symphony, as though the demon was making love to a host of angels rather than the solitary boy being smothered and wrecked in his arms. The dizzying effect had Ciel’s teeth tearing into the demon's shoulder to stifle his own sounds, wanting to hear the inhuman feral growls of his lover. “S-slow down,” he mumbled into the broken skin, his lips bathing in the blood that tasted like a perfectly aged, full-bodied wine. “Touch… touch me Sebastian, please!”

Sebastian hissed and growled encouragingly as Ciel’s teeth found vicious purchase on his shoulder, broke his skin and drew out the inky, deep crimson of his blood, spicy and smooth like chili powdered truffles and liqueur. He returned the gesture in kind, sharp teeth sinking into the delicate silk of Ciel’s collar, marking, scarring, branding as surely as his dark-stained fingertips on the young man’s hips. He purred and moaned lowly, feral and pressing, demanding as he drove himself inside Ciel repeatedly, shifting a hand from his grip on the young man’s hip to obey his master’s desperate command. He curled long taloned fingers around Ciel’s weeping and throbbing erection, squeezing firmly and stroking in time with the powerful rocking of his hips. “Beautiful, so lovely butterfly… Can taste the light inside you… Mine… All mine, only mine,” he murmured darkly against Ciel’s throat, lips, teeth and tongue lingering, bleeding him and leaving a map of violent red-violet marks over his skin, unable to quell the desire to mar and claim. Ciel belonged to him and let it be known that he would not let him go again.

Silent. Ciel’s mind, his desire went silent at the words. He'd ached to belong to the demon, to be claimed by him. Didn't care if it was love, just wanted to be possessed body and soul. His eyes welled with tears and overflowed most uncharacteristically as he wiped his blood stained mouth on his hand, smeared it across Sebastian’s chest. His hand found its way to where Sebastian was stroking him and added his own pressure to stall its movements, “Wait.” When his lover complied, snarling and growling his displeasure at having been interrupted, Ciel pulled away from him, the emptiness a more potent ache than his naked cock. He rose to his feet, unsteady, shaking and beckoned the demon to join him on the altar; if they were going to desecrate the Lord’s house, they were going to do it proper. He turned his back to his lover’s ravenous gaze and held onto the large cross. His hand still trickled blood from the wound that resembled stigmata, the demon’s mixing with it, and together with the blessed object burned deliciously as it tore through the rest of his body. “Yours… all yours… only yours,” he promised, head bowed, feet apart waiting to be reclaimed.

Sebastian’s predatory scarlet gaze caressed Ciel’s presented backside, pleased by the pose, the willing subjugation, yearning submission. It was _contrition_ , confession, absolution, a pure admission of faith. Possession… And as Sebastian hitched the dress up and impaled Ciel in one swift motion, it was redemption. He tasted heaven in the mingling of their essences; he could feel Ciel’s soul on his skin, in his core. It should not be there, should not be comfortable, but it fit inside him as if it belonged there, as if it always had. He hadn’t known, but he’d been pining for it. 

He breathed harshly, hot and moist against the back of the young man’s neck, bit him, and again, stained the silk violet as he drew Ciel’s blood and bathed the altar with it, tears and sweat and holy sin. He held him too tight, fucked into him ferociously, wings shifting behind him to lend more force to the motions while his cock swelled, nails biting into the soft, delicate skin of Ciel’s hips and firm belly while lewd squelching sounds echoed between the repeated press of their flesh. Feral sounds of pleasure, deep growls, humming purrs, and breathless grunts washed over his butterfly’s slender back, caught in his hair and on his skin as Sebastian’s contracted hand sought out his lover’s aching arousal once again. 

There was something so pure, so tragically blessed in the act and Sebastian could not stop, would not, decided there that he would not devour Ciel’s soul. He would see the contract through, but he would make his own amendments. He would not consume him, but he would covet and keep him, not just for a year, not for even a lifetime, but for… _Eternity,_ whispered in loving echoes of Aramaic through the contract and between them. And around the chapel, the statues wept for them, unnoticed.

“ʼĔlāhā! ʼĔlāhā...Ho-Hold me!” Ciel supplicated his lover, interchanging his lover’s name for God’s in aramaic. In his mind, they were now one and the same. His legs shook, were ready to give out, he would break, Sebastian would snap his body in half; but the frail boy could not bring himself to ask him to stop, instead, he begged for it, “Break me! Break me!” His wounded hand seized the demon’s grip on his hip and he intertwined their fingers, then clutched the crucifix with this other hand for balance. He felt the consuming sensation of orgasm building, felt the blinding white heat move in behind his lids as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I love… I love…” he panted, smirking, shocks of exquisite pleasure-pain radiating through him, streaking like bolts of lightning over his sensitive flesh, “I love the way you… hah… fuck me.” His body stiffened as he cursed and came in his lover’s hand and all over the inside of his skirt.

Sebastian’s movements became languid, still powerful, but slowed, rolling in milking waves, prolonging his lover’s orgasm while delaying his own only an extra moment. Ciel’s body was strangling him deliciously, greedily clenching around him, holding him, begging for him to stay. It was only a handful of deep, aching thrusts more before he drove himself in as far as possible, held Ciel so hard against him as he filled him, the base of his cock flaring slightly and pulsing as his release came in thick, hot bursts. He shuddered, tensed and relaxed, pressed desperate, aggressively possessive kisses over the bites he’d left on the back of young man’s pale neck and whispered his response hoarsely, “I adore the feel of you; it’s as if you were made just for me butterfly. There’s balance in you for me. You make me _feel_...”

Ciel collapsed, sweaty and heaving against his lover’s chest and was immediately hidden by silky obsidian plumage, as if Sebastian were possessively shielding him from the condemning, prying eyes of the sacramental paintings on the ceiling and walls. His head fell back and his heavy-lidded eyes sought those of the demon’s, as he blinked away the tears that clung relentlessly to his long lashes. “What could I, a _mere mortal_ , make you, the embodiment of Lust feel, _Asmodeus_?” His voice was scarcely his own, not acerbic or bitter for having been once again vulnerable and volatile, though he had almost confessed to _feeling_ himself.

Sebastian’s cock slipped wetly from inside the young man, flagging and sated for the moment and the demon hissed softly, reluctant to lose the connection, but consoled himself by turning Ciel in his arms to face him. He pressed tender kisses over Ciel’s collar, cleansing away the leftover blood from his skin and peppered his face as he answered sincerely, “Shame, fear, regret,” over his brow and each cheek, “Loneliness, loss, grief,” nose and both eyes, “Selflessness, hope, faith,” each corner of his mouth and against his abused lips, “Love.” 

Ciel tilted his head, frowning, searching the demon’s eyes for pretense or deception. Humans he could read, he knew the tell-tale signs of lying; but the demon, whose eyes were always shifting, but invariably predatory, was a different story altogether. “That’s a shame; those are very human feelings, and as such, you’ll find they’re quite fleeting.”

"No. Not mine sweetling. It's as if I have a soul of my own; I would not discard it so carelessly. I am not human. Humans are fickle because they have so little time and experience these feelings repeatedly, but you cannot fathom how long I have lived without. I might have known it once, but not like this, never like this. Deny it as you like butterfly, you'll come to know it as truth when it remains unchanging," the devil answered, a gentle curl to his lips. Ever stubborn his little lover, impossible and petulant in his suspicion and denial, but Sebastian would have him no other way. What sweeter victory would there be than the day that Ciel did not question his devotion?

Chapter 9 Blooper Reel

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- Dark Hallway) Take Three*

 **Aloson _(steps further into Sebastian’s space, one pale, delicate, but strong hand tangling itself in the lapel of his tailcoat as he draws himself against Sebastian)_ :** Let’s not worry about-

 **Ciel _(stomping furiously onto the set in his blue gown, pulling his long gloves off with his teeth)_ :** Get your fucking hands off him you hellspawned skank!

_(Aloson has no time to react before Ciel yanks him away from Sebastian by the hair, forcing the similar-sized boy to face him. Aloson retaliates by slapping at Ciel, Ciel scratches Aloson, Aloson rips Ciel’s necklace off and pearls bounce onto the floor, Ciel and Aloson hurl insults at one another in between high-pitched screams, ripping and tearing whatever clothing from their opponent they can.)_

_(Sebastian conjures a pool of mud, a bottle of lubricant and a lawn chair, unzips his pants and settles in for the show.)_

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versailles- The King’s Chambers) Take Four*

 **Sebastian _(bumps into the vampires as he stumbles in)_ :** Oops pardon me, 'scuse me, get out of the bloody way! _(snickers)_

_(Ciel and Beelzebub are sitting at the table and turn around to see Sebastian singing to himself loudly and stumbling.)_

**Ciel:** Jesus christ, he’s been drinking again, who the fuck gave him alcohol? 

**Sebastian _(tackles and squeezes Ciel)_ :**: Butterfly I missed you!!

 **Ciel _(trying to get out from under Sebastian, speaking out of the side of his mouth)_ :** You're gonna blow my cover, asshole.

 **Sebastian _(petting Ciel aggressively and not loosening his hold in the least)_ :** But Butterflyyyyy I lovvvvvveee you! Dance with me!

 **Ciel _(glaring at Sebastian, still struggling)_ :** No. That wasn't part of the deal when I agreed to wear this dress, Sebastian. You never mentioned dancing! You said _(whispers in Sebastian's ear)_ and _(whispers some more)_ oh, and don't forget _(whispers)_ , but no dancing. So kindly fuck off.

 **Sebastian _(singing and completely ignoring the protests while simply moving Ciel's body)_ :** Can't keep my hands to myself... No matter how hard I'm trying to… _(not trying to AT ALL)_

 **Ciel:** I'm not sure if I'm more disturbed by the fact that you're disobeying orders or that you fucking listen to Selena Gomez.

 **Sebastian:** Of course I listen, she's one of ours, didn't you know?

 **Ciel:** Please tell me her ten years are almost up! Can I say that? Or does that infringe on Supernatural copyrights?

 **Sebastian _(chuckles)_ :** And what would they sue you for... Your _soul_?

_(Ciel and Sebastian crack up together)_

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versailles- The King’s Chambers) Take Five*

 **Sebastian:** You needn’t call me by that name, but by the one that suits your taste my lord. My name should be the one that is sweetest on your tongue.

 **Ciel:** Dick...

 **Sebastian _(smirking)_ :** That sounds like an invitation.

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The King’s Chambers) Take Six*

 **Beelzebub:** You deserve the suffering Luci has planned for you. And more… So much more for abandoning your blood for this little insect. He’s not so pretty.

 **Ciel _(pulling off his gloves and stomping over irately_ :** Oi! I’m _right_ here! 

**Sebastian _(conjures another pool of mud, a bottle of lubricant and a lawn chair, unzips his pants and settles in for yet another show.)_ :** What luck and it's not even my birthday…

_Cut! >_

__

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The King’s Chambers) Take Twelve*

 **Ciel:** Come Sebastian, I'm not leaving Versailles empty handed.

 **Sebastian _(takes Ciel's hand and puts it on his erection)_ :** Can we go home now?

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The Royal Chapel) Take Eighteen*

_(Ciel removes a stilettoed shoe and drives it quick into the surface of the glass, using the heel to clean the periphery and remove the item from within.)_

**Sebastian _(wincing)_ : ** Those are nine-thousand dollar Louboutins, you brat.

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The Royal Chapel) Take Twenty*

_(And as Sebastian hitched the dress up and impaled Ciel in one swift motion, the altar shifted and Ciel’s hands slipped, smashing his head into the cross and knocking him unconscious.)_

**Sebastian:** Uhhh.. Oops.

_Cut!_

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The Royal Chapel) Take Thirty-Two*

_(And as Sebastian hitched the dress up and impaled Ciel in one swift motion, the altar shifted and broke… Again.)_

**Director _(stomps on set, throwing the script in the air in frustration)_ :** That's the seventh one we've had to replace for this scene! It's made of marble you assholes, that shit is expensive!

 **Sebastian _(glaring and grumbling)_ :** I’d like to see you try to control the strength and intensity of your thrusts when you are a demon in the middle of a fit of passion. Oh wait, that would require someone actually _wanting_ to sit on your dusty old dick.

_(Ciel snickers)_

_(Stagehands tidy up the mess and replace the altar only for it to be broken again. Sebastian simply continues with the scene heedless of the rubble beneath he and Ciel. Eventually, they replace the last one with rubber because they've exceeded the budget. Sebastian and CIel don’t even notice.)_

**Director:** Cut! That’s a wrap! Cut… Guys cut… We’re done… Oh fuck it, just let them finish… Cut the lights!

***

*Scene Nine “Devotion” (Palais de Versaille- The Royal Chapel) Take Thirty-Five*

 **Ciel _(pleading, chest heaving)_ :** Oh, God! Please Sebastian! Stop teasing me. Take me, take whatever you want, whatever you need… just do it now!

**Sebastian _(cooing from under Ciel’s skirt)_ :** Shhh, patience butterfly… Always in such a rush.

 **Ciel _(panting)_ :** Virgin… how long am I expected to last? _(to the director)_ Yell _Cut_ or something. Please! _(exasperated)_ Too late.

_*** 2 minutes later***_

_(Sebastian pressed his lubricated tongue to the twitching little entrance, circled over it and prodded at it)_

**Ciel _(squeezing his eyes shut, thinking unsexy thoughts: lesbian porn, Grell doing a striptease, Vincent’s hairline)_ :**Slow dow- … Fuck. Not again. 

_***5 minutes later***_

**Sebastian:** Feel it now sweetling? _(he murmurs huskily, rocking his hips back and driving them forward again immediately)_

 **Ciel _(screaming)_ :** Hah… Sebastian! Yes… feel it… more! No. No more. Stop! Stop! Stop! I can’t- _(bows head in defeat)_

_***3 minutes later***_

_(Sebastian’s fingers bruise Ciel’s hips and thighs as he rocks in and out of him, shifting his angle and the rigidity of his cock to better suit his partner, expertly finding Ciel’s prostate and exploiting it ruthlessly)_

**Ciel:** Cut! 

_***2 minutes later***_

**Sebastian _(Sebastian hitches the dress up and impales Ciel in one swift motion, it was-)_ :** Jesus again, butterfly?

 **Ciel:** It’s not my fault you’re so good. Just keep going or else we’ll never get this scene done and I’m quite looking forward to the next one. Besides, I have a skirt to cover the mess…

 **Sebastian:** Yes, my lord.

_Cut!_


	10. Doting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of this chapter: Baldness is Hereditary.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Tears of Pearls by Savage Garden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQDx2Mj3FJI&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=85)  
> Ciel~ [Bittersweet by Ellie Goulding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YysA79k4gfY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Ciel:** It's Good Friday for a reason... Enjoy.  
>  **Sebastian:** Jesus died for this shit, 'yo.

Ciel was barely conscious as Sebastian bundled the boneless young man to his chest, holding him with firm gentleness as if his master were the most precious of cargo. And so he was. He was precious to Sebastian; priceless and irreplaceable. Things had shifted inside the demon, places deep in the pits of his being, he could feel himself changing, being made whole in a fashion he had not thought possible. Perhaps he should have been wary or denied himself, used it as he had originally planned to obtain Ciel’s soul for his consumption, but his motivations had been rewritten. Sebastian decided then that he would make a mate of the mortal. Ciel would not deny him forever and when he finally reconciled what his blood had amended, Sebastian would have him always.

He bore the spent human back to the accommodations that had been prepared for their stay in Paris, swift and shadowed in the night sky, over the rooftops on near silent wings. Once they’d arrived, the demon tucked his wings to his back and padded barefoot through the dim lit quarters to the bathroom. He hummed that same low, melancholy lullaby as always as he took his time undressing his lover, careful of the bites he’d left on the porcelain skin, the bruises and scratches that laid claim to his butterfly’s flesh as surely as the claim he’d made on his soul. Candles lit themselves around the room, bathing it in warm, shadowed light and he was filling the tub, water scented and soothing with oils of rosehip and lavender as Ciel stirred in the crook of his unoccupied arm. 

Ciel had fallen asleep before Sebastian had carried him out of the chapel, but not before grabbing the prized relic and ordering the servant to clean up; sacrilege aside, the Phantomhive heir was still civilized. When he woke, it was to water running and a camphor-like scent that both immediately comforted and relieved him of the tenseness that had built in his muscles. Eyes still shut, his face turned away from the flickering embers of lit candles and sought the soothing shelter of his lover’s darkness. Sagging further in his arms and yawning, Ciel bunched a fistful of the demon’s dress shirt and mumbled groggily, “S’not fair that I’m the only one naked. You’ll join me, won’t you?”

Sebastian chuckled, carding his fingers through Ciel’s tangled hair fondly as he responded in a warm silky tone, “You’re likely to drown if I don’t sweetling.” The taps turned with a muted squeak and the water cut off while the demon straightened and settled Ciel in the soothing liquid heat before he removed the rest of his tattered clothing, leaving it puddled at his feet. He settled in behind the young man and pulled him to rest back against his chest, his heartbeat a steady thump beneath Ciel’s back as he cupped water in his hands and poured it over the youth’s shoulders and chest. 

Ciel hissed and tensed as the water made contact with the fresh cuts and lacerations left behind by his lover in his fit of passion. He felt the heat of Sebastian’s hand move to cover the harm done, perhaps to heal them, and his own hand shot up, albeit heavily, to stop him. “Don’t. I want to keep feeling it, want to make sure it actually happened,” he turned his head to the side, his eyes glazing over under weighted eyelids to look at their entwined hands; his wounded one in the gentle but firm grip of the demon’s, “But this one you can get rid of. That fucking hurt.”

The devil’s lips quirked in an endeared smile and he guided Ciel’s injured hand to his mouth, pressing that smile to his wounded palm. A cooling numbness spread from the contact as the puncture closed, smooth as if it had never been there at all as Sebastian obeyed the demand, though he would have done it even if Ciel had not requested it. He kissed it a second time before he laid their clasped hands on Ciel’s chest over his heart. “You know butterfly, even without the scars to remind you, I could always reenact it for you. It’d be no trouble at all,” he assured, a sly and cheeky lilt beneath the words, his wings shifting idly draped over the back of the porcelain tub and trailing inky feathers over the pristine tiling of the bathroom floor. His previously unoccupied hand made use of the soft sea sponge and liquid lavender soap, lathering over Ciel’s thighs, hips, and belly under the water, tenderly, reverently cleansing his marked up skin.

“Mmm…” Ciel shifted between Sebastian’s legs, his hands groping his lover’s thighs, kneading them; how was it even possible for him to be aroused, _again_ , after everything that had already transpired? He breathed through his nose, frustrated by his body’s petty weakness and tried distracting himself with more serious conversation. “So the demon in the King’s chambers, that was _family_?” Ciel asked uncertainly.

"My little sister," Sebastian answered, watching the movement of his lover's fingers beneath the soap threaded ripples of the water, continuing with his gentle ministrations, cleaning away sweat and remnants of blood amongst other fluids from Ciel's skin. "It has been a very long while since I had last seen her. She could have devoured you. Why did you not call for me sooner?"

Ciel shrugged indifferently, stretching his arms back and wrapping them around Sebastian’s neck, “We were playing a game, some Devil’s Cut or something, and I was... _curious_...”

"I see. You should have called for me. Gambling with Gluttony is never fair odds sweetling. Beelzebub likes to cheat and there is always more at stake than you know. I would like to say it was luck or divine intervention that spared you, but it was by her own machinations. She was expecting us from the start," the demon replied, a small frown of suspicious displeasure on his mouth. Something was afoot... It could not be coincidence; so little ever was after all. He wet Ciel's hair, tilting his mate's head back against his shoulder so the water and suds would avoid his eyes as he washed him.

“It seems that way,” Ciel said, frowning, “She knew exactly who I was, but that drink…” He flushed, remembering how he had stupidly consumed it, had willingly followed the young boy. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to call for Sebastian, but when he had… “You were delayed, once I had called you. What kept you? Who was _Ally_?”

“Ally… She always did like to give nicknames… Aloson, Beelzebub’s favourite servant...We had history. She sent him to me to attempt to keep me from you, to tempt me. I was delayed because he barred me from you and in turn lost his life,” Sebastian’s words were chilled, unsympathetic for what had transpired, Ciel’s safety would always take precedence above all else and any being idiotic enough to threaten it would find the same fate as Aloson.

Ciel stiffened in his lover’s arms, stopped listening properly after he’d mentioned _“history”_. His arms fell to his sides and he bit the inside of his cheek, trying desperately not to be petulant and failing at it spectacularly. Of course Sebastian had _history_ , it shouldn’t have come as a surprise given his true identity… yet it still didn’t quell his jealousy. He thought about getting out of the tub, but brought his knees up to his chest and leaned into them, holding them instead, not trusting his legs to stand quite yet.

Sebastian sensed the withdrawal, felt the envy and possessiveness echo through their bond and smiled ever so slightly. He shifted to wrap his arms around the young man and pressed almost apologetic kisses to the damp, vague sweetness of Ciel’s skin. “You needn’t worry butterfly, you’ve ruined me for any other. And I’ll have no other after you,” he affirmed, the words husky and cool against the back of his mate’s neck as he spoke. Ciel would doubt him, deny him for a fool and a liar, but still, he would say it because it was true whether his mate conceded or not. 

Ciel snorted and rolled his eyes, stopped himself from saying “ _whatever_ ”. “I’m done bathing,” he said instead, crossing his arms over his chest, staring resolutely at the water.

The raven hummed his acknowledgement, smile unwavering on his pale lips as he moved to stand, stepped out of the tub, pulled the plug and scooped Ciel up into his arms again, wrapping the boy in a plush towel, the water evaporating from his own skin as he left the bathroom and took his lover into the dark bedroom. The candles died behind him and the only light filtered into the master bedroom through the sheer curtains on the window, illuminating the demon’s pale skin and inky wings in sharp contrast, colourless save for his eyes that glowed and did not stray once from the young man that was so obviously sulking. 

He dried him with the same doting care he had in washing him and carrying him and once finished, his fingers combed through his hair tenderly, untangling the midnight locks lovingly, ignoring the petulant huffing from his master; it was all for dramatics anyways. Sebastian could feel the tension receding as he continued to gently touch his lover, coaxing him back into the bedding, massaging and kneading at his flesh to soothe the aches and soreness that must be there after their fevered coupling previously. 

It was difficult to stay mad at Sebastian when he was being so infuriatingly gentle and doting. The euphoria that had lingered in Ciel’s veins had since gone, and the withdrawal was leaving him petulant and defiant, was heightening his reactions. His hand gripped the demon’s, where it had been loosening a knot near his neck, “What are you sucking up for Sebastian? Is it because you nearly jumped your ex or because you didn’t tell me who you really were? Were you _ever_ going to tell me??”

“I would have told you had you asked, but that name and that life, it seems, is no longer the one I desire. And I did not nearly do any such thing while I was detained. I’m older than you can imagine sweetling and my past will be filled with disappointments for you. Tread carefully and remember the words I speak may not be the ones you wish to hear or admit, but that does not make them untrue,” the demon replied as his hands continued their gentle kneading. Tension dissolved beneath the motions, inevitable, but Ciel was stubborn to a fault. Sebastian expected no less from his volatile little lover. “As for my reasons for doting upon you, you are entirely mistaken in your assumptions. I do it because I _want_ to. I’m merely loving you as lovers are wont to do.”

Ciel had virtually no experience with love, perhaps apart from the _philia_ he felt for his mother and Lizzie, strong, loyal, but entirely dispassionate. This, whatever it was between he and the demon, was entirely new for him. The Greeks would have most certainly classified it as _Eros_ , dangerous, primal and intense; or maybe, despite his efforts to resist the euphoria of falling in love _Ludus_ , might have been a better designation.

But based on his words and actions alone, Sebastian seemed to be trying to sell him on the pure and unconditional _agape_. It didn’t sit well with Ciel; it was madness to trust this devil. Hadn’t he made it explicit, once the bond had been transferred, that he had his own motivations at heart? Would his Phantomhive soul taste sweeter, more succulent and divine if he were to stupidly fall in love with Lust? He’d already been fooled by one demon tonight, he would guard his heart, make it a chore for the demon to _love_ him. Maybe once Sebastian had been saved, Ciel could trust his intentions. 

As it was, he would continue to enjoy the physicality of their relationship, would revel in its sacrilege. Tearing himself away from the comfort of the plush bedding, he sat up and wrapped his arm around the back of his lover’s neck, his own fingers kneading and teasing as he pulled him in, warm breath coyly caressing the other’s skin, “If you keep this up, all this gentle crap you’ve been doing will be for not.”

Sebastian hummed and lolled his head to the side in lazy pleasure as Ciel’s hands embraced his skin, his own hands gliding down Ciel’s ribs to his waist and squeezing there. “How so butterfly? You can deny it as you like, but you are only fooling yourself. You can’t hide from me sweetling. I _know_ you crave to be loved gently equally as you beg to be loved harshly,” he breathed silkily in response.

“Yes Sebastian, I am _aware_ ,” Ciel said annoyed, raking his nails down the demon’s back as Lust positioned himself over the heir, “you know _everything_. You’re omniscient and omnipotent… Christ, you’re giving me a complex.” The heat that was coming off the perfectly carved flesh above him, along with the devilish smirk, were nearly as heady as the intoxicating brew he’d ingested at the masque. “All I meant, is that you’ve been trying to soothe me, take away the tension, but you touching me like this is having the opposite effect; so tone it the hell down, will you?”

“And if I’d rather not?” Sebastian inquired huskily, lips finding Ciel’s ear, drawing the rounded tip between them and worrying it with his teeth, purring appreciatively. He slid his hands up and down Ciel’s smooth sides, reveling in the feel of soft, supple and delicate flesh beneath his palms and fingertips. He ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of the young man’s ear and whispered wickedly, “Order me to abstain.”

Ciel clung to him, inhaling through gritted teeth as Sebastian’s hands left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Kisses rained down on his neck, over his pulse and the hollow of his throat, making his belly quiver anew with desire, before the submissive was able to think coherently again. “Mmm… you’ll follow my order?” he asked between broken sighs, wrapping his legs around his lover’s waist, pulling him closer. He was so hungry; after the chapel, he should be completely sated, shouldn't he? “You won’t try to get out of it? Won’t try to manipulate the situation?”

“Whatever you wish, my love, I am yours to command,” Sebastian replied, pulling away from the young man’s throat to catch Ciel’s eyes. He could see, taste and feel the desire simmering beneath the boy’s skin, could feel the goosebumps risen on his flesh and hear the craving in his voice. Sebastian was like moth to flame, returning the wanting with his own. Once had not been enough; it would never be enough. But now the fever of the venom had passed and only the deep seated yearning to be connected, one with his mate, remained.

It was at that moment that Ciel’s body betrayed him; his stomach growled and a smirk slowly broke across his face. “I’m hungry. I want something sweet, like a parfait,” he ordered coyly, his eyes smiling mischievously.

Sebastian blinked once, twice before he began to laugh, deep, silky chuckles that echoed in his chest. “Of course, right away sweetling, you must be famished,” he replied in a husky lilting tone, his amusement and affection obvious as he spoke, carding his fingers through Ciel’s hair once and tucking it behind his ear before he retreated. “I won’t be long,” he assured before he disappeared with the whisper of feathers and shadows chasing his heels.

Ciel threw his feet over the side of the tall bed, letting his feet dangle and eyed the suitcase that sat on the large working desk across the room defiantly. On the plus side, his clothes and the area where he would eat occupied the same space; the down side- it was at least fifteen paces away. He let his bottom slide off the bed until he was on the balls of his feet when a sharp, piercing pain shot up his back. He pressed his lips tightly and held onto the bedside table. _Damn that demon and his monstrous…_. He inhaled deeply and exhaled through clenched teeth. With his weight now fully and evenly distributed, he took one step after the other, his legs shaking violently. He leaned against the wall, dragging himself upright, counting his steps, _seven, eight, nine, ten…_ And that was all he managed before he dropped to his knees, cursing.

Sebastian hummed to himself as he made his way back to Ciel’s bedroom, pleased for the fact he did not have to be discreet with his nature for the moment; it was only he and Ciel occupying the apartment. Immediately upon returning, he left the parfait he had prepared for the young man on the night table and hurried to Ciel’s side. “Did you stumble butterfly?” he asked slyly, well and truly aware of why his master had ended up on the floor, as he lifted the boy from the floor gingerly and carried him back to the bed, “What was it that you were after so desperately that you could not wait?”

Ciel watched, seething, as his destination got farther away from him; all his progress had been for nothing. He grumbled something about _clothes_ and _desk_ , not even sure he was being coherent through his haze of embarrassment at having been discovered this way. “How long am I going to be an invalid? I can’t attend my father’s funeral like this!” Sapphire eyes widened as he cupped his hand over his mouth, “My mother is going to be there, Sebastian!” He was going to come off a total fool, every inch of him looking like the former Phantomhive earls whose portraits lined the antechamber walls of his family manor: eye patch, customary aristocratic dress and heavily relying on a cane. And Lizzy would _know_ … would never let him live it down, even if he wasn’t actually planning to attend the gathering in person. “You need to fix this.”

Sebastian smirked, inwardly shaking his head at the young man’s demanding tone, straining to cover over the embarrassment he’d rather keep to himself. Such a spoiled, fickle thing his lover was. Hadn’t the demon just attempted to assist in relieving the ache in him and been sent away? So be it; he found he did not mind spoiling his mate, petulant as he was. His kneading hands had not had the chance to soothe away the discomfort, perhaps his lips would.

He bent at the waist, leaned down to press a kiss to the base of Ciel’s spine, the little dip of his tailbone and from the point of contact, that same cooling numbness spread, coaxing the ache away. He licked his lips as he pulled away again, “Better sweetling?” 

“I don’t know; and I’m sure as hell not moving from this spot just so I can fall again.” Ciel sat up against the headboard, brought the plush duvet up to his waist and leaned over to get the tall parfait glass, spoon inserted in such a way that the layers of custard and lemon hadn’t at all been disturbed. It irked Ciel to no end that his lover was just perfect at everything. Who the hell just whips up a parfait in the middle of the night? The bloody demon of Lust, that’s who! 

Ciel pulled the spoon out of the dessert and slid it between his lips, trying to keep his expression neutral as a frisson tingled just under the surface of his skin. Without even having to look to confirm, he knew Sebastian’s eyes would be glowing with suppressed mirth; Ciel glared at him and brandished the clean spoon like a weapon, “Go on, laugh you demon bastard; I know you meant to when you found me on the damn floor.”

“To be fair butterfly, you begged for it. And to think you were calling me _God_ not so long ago,” Sebastian mused with a decidedly, suitably devilish smirk, though he did not laugh, auburn eyes aglow with humour while he settled in to watch Ciel eat. He sprawled lazily, propped back against the headboard, looking for all the world like the cat that got the canary. His hands were folded and lax on his firm belly, wings folded in neatly, feathered tips comfortably strewn to either side of him while he continued to watch his mate.

“I’m blaming it on your sister, _Asmodeus_ ; it’s that drink she gave me. Any other time, I’d be completely level-headed,” Ciel said, licking the spoon clean and handing the empty parfait glass to Sebastian. He wiggled under the duvet and turned to face the demon, propping his head up on his hand. “Besides, I didn’t see you put up much of a fight either…”

Sebastian hummed, setting the emptied glass aside before leaning back, closing his eyes a moment as if in contemplation and he lolled his head back against the plush arch of one wing lazily. “Her venom only amplifies what is already deep-seated within butterfly. I seem to recall that there were other times you were not so level as you claim. Had I not been suffering under the same effects, I might have abstained from taking you just then. But even you must admit butterfly, it was _bound_ to happen one way or another. Then, now, or in the future, can you honestly say that you will not lose yourself again?” he paused and opened his eyes to look at his scowling and posed lover through the deep soot veil of his lashes, “Can you honestly say that, without gluttony running in your veins, if I should choose to take you just now, you would refuse? If I might be so bold, I’m calling your bluff sweetling.”

Even with the effects of the drink having abandoned his system, Ciel still felt infuriatingly, inexplicably drawn to his lover, like their blood continuously called out to one another. No, it wasn’t inexplicable; Sebastian had chosen this guise, this appearance to tempt him from the start. He’d become precisely what Ciel had lusted after in past prospective suitors like some sort of perverted puzzle. Tall like the Dane noble from the House of Laborde de Monpezat who boasted a viking bloodline and had courted his favour, inky, lustrous hair like the Midici lad he’d hustled out of a sum of money that would have made his italian banking family call for his immediate banishment and bloodless, hauntingly pale skin like the patriarch of the du Pont family in France who’d offered to leave his high ranking position and family for an evening with his sixteen year old self. 

“It would never be a fair fight, Sebastian, you have those unholy sex perks that work in your favour.” He couldn’t stop himself; he touched his lover’s face and trailed a finger along the line of the angular jaw, moved in so he could press his mouth against the sweet skin, then scowled at his weakness again. _Unfair. Unfair_. Once the demon was fixed, it would be as easy to resist him as it had been all others before him, but that hardly helped him at the moment; he needed to stack the odds in his favour, “Let’s see if you’re as successful in _taking me_ as you so lovingly put it, in your true form, Sebastian; no fanciful appearance, let me see you the way your kin does.” There. If his lover had been reticent in initially showing him his wings, his slitted eyes and sharp teeth, surely _this_ would halt the demon's seduction.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, searching the midnight pools of his lover’s. He could see the challenge there and the apprehension. Ciel was curious, but he was not ready to see, not really, not yet. When he was finally honest, Sebastian would show him, but not before then. Ciel did not yet trust his devotion and Sebastian had already been made vulnerable enough for it. 

“I’m afraid I must decline sweetling. You aren’t ready to see. You will when you are. We have no need to rush when all we have is time. As I’ve said before, I can no doubt be patient, the question is, can you?” the demon replied, turning his head to press his lips to Ciel’s palm, tongue flickering against the soft flesh ticklishly before withdrawing entirely, leaning back once more.

“If you decline, so must I, _my love_ ” Ciel smirked, imitating the infuriating way Sebastian’s voice always caressed the word. He’d given quite enough of himself to the demon for one day and was starting to resent always being the one imploring, pleading. “One day, you’ll run out of patience, and you’ll be forced to respond to your base desires; then the playing field will be even.” Ciel gave the demon a playful half-smile, taking hold of his hand and kissing the sooty tips of his fingers one at a time.

Sebastian hummed gutturally, watching Ciel’s lips on his fingertips. “You should not be so eager for that day sweetling. I could ruin you if I am not careful. You should not tempt me when you are still unsure which one of us truly holds the upperhand,” he murmured, closing his eyes serenely, a soft curl to his lips.

“ _I'm_ tempting _you_?” Ciel whispered, cocking his head coyly, swallowing one of the fingers, dragging his teeth against the smooth skin as he pulled back up. His pulse thrilled and his blood sang at the implicit threat in Sebastian’s tone. Of course he knew the demon had the upperhand; but that didn't mean he was going to stop challenging him for any kind of dominance.

Sebastian chuckled breathily, rubbing the pad of his finger against the flat of Ciel’s clever little tongue. _Tempting indeed…_ It was so clear that the young man believed he was at a disadvantage, did not realize the power he held over a more powerful creature. Sebastian would do anything for him, not because the contract dictated such and not because of some underhanded machinations, but because Ciel was most precious to him and those that sought to degrade or extinguish him would be devoured in his stead because though he would not devour Ciel’s soul, it still belonged to him.

Sebastian very suddenly swooped down on the youth, pinning him to the bed, lips hovering bare breaths from one another as he answered, “Yes butterfly, you tempt me in ways you cannot even understand.” Ciel was too mortal now, too suspicious still, but he would not always be so and he would know what the demon meant; he would realize the cataclysmic devotion Sebastian was already garnering for him. To tempt a demon to redemption; such a feat was not only holy, but divine as the revelations. Someday Ciel would understand, but that day was not today.

As usual, the demon spoke the truth, his arousal was obvious in the hard ridge Ciel could feel, prodding and insistent against his belly. “Good,” Ciel spoke in a subdued voice, gazing at his lover from under heavy lids. His eyes were involuntarily drifting shut, his muscles relaxed, and his thoughts were more muddled than usual, pinned under the demon as he was; but it was when he swallowed a yawn rather than a moan that he gave up resisting his exhaustion. As he slipped into slumber, his lips brushed against Sebastian’s jaw and up to his ear to command him, “Hold me in your true form until I wake.” 

“Yes, my love,” came the smoky whisper accompanied by the soft rustle of feather and the shiver of energies being unshackled. Already long limbs lengthened further, lithe frame becoming willowy, even more graceful as skin became shaded in parts by iridescent midnight scale, sanguine feline eyes reflected threads of light eerily in the dark, the length of his coiled tail slithering from the base of his spine, spade tipped and leathery soft while a forked tongue flickered over vicious fangs to taste the scent of his intended mate as the demon settled himself around the mortal. Asmodeus- _Sebastian_ wrapped his arms around the young man firmly, razored and soot stained fingers profoundly gentle against Ciel’s delicately breakable skin as he pulled him in, encompassed them both in the shroud of impressive and plush onyx feathers so that even if Ciel should wake, he would not be able to see that which he was not ready to truly know. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in the silky strands of his butterfly’s hair as he hummed the melancholy lullaby deep in his chest while he cradled his human in his true form. Ciel likely would deny it, but he would never find a safer place to rest.

***

Two shrill pitched and angry voices echoed in the high-vaulted chambers of Lucifer’s throne room as the two red-headed demons argued heatedly. They were unable to keep their ire silent while awaiting their audience with the current ruling crowned prince of hell.

“He’s not the same Azzy that he once was. I want him scattered for what he did to my poor Ally. He deserves it. Admit it Bell. Luci’s going to agree; he can’t be forgiven for his trespasses this time!” Beelzebub screeched and hissed, gesticulating with her wickedly clawed hands.

Belial scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as if to shoo away the younger demon, batting away the flailing limbs without actually making contact with them. “It’s your own fault. If you spent half as much time using your brain to think as you do to bitch and whine, Aloson would still be alive and well instead of filling Asmodeus’ belly.”

“You’re the one that ordered me to--”

“Tut tut, who ordered you to attempt to seduce _the_ seducer? Stupid brat… And at the worst possible time as well. You should have had more patience. Asmodeus is _enslaved_ to that disgusting little mortal; did you really think a little lust would be able to break him from his shackles?” Belial interrupted scathingly. 

“You know what I think Bell? I think Asmodeus is dead. He’s been completely rewritten. He is _Sebastian_. I think he _wants_ to be enslaved to that scrawny little human boy. He’s _choosing_ the human over his own blood. He’s not our brother anymore! You just want him for yourself, but you’re just playing make believe. He doesn’t want you, want any of us; he’s _enamoured_ with that wretched mortal. Open your eyes Bell!”

“How dare you! You take that back you festering whore!” Belial screeched, reaching with vicious taloned hands as if to wrap them around Beelzebub’s neck, but they were stilled abruptly in the space between them. 

Both redheads were frozen in place as the silky sound of their reigning prince’s voice echoed through the chambers, silencing theirs beneath its weight, “I’ve heard enough of your squabbling. If the two of you shared a brain, you would still lack the intelligence to free our brother from his little pet exorcist. Now sit down, both of you.” He snapped violet tipped fingers and both Belial and Beelzebub found themselves prostrated on the floor before the throne. 

“There now, that’s better,” Lucifer said airily as he practically floated to his throne. He laid himself out in the large seat, long legs dangling over the far arm while his upper body rested against the other, looking exquisite with his long jet black hair and equally dark plumed wings sprawled over the throne behind him, body wrapped snuggly in white, not a stain or speck of soot on him. His pale, unblemished skin was offset by dark lashes, red tinted lips and faded lilac inking intricate vines over the canvas of milky flesh on display, not at all washed out by the colourless clothing adorning his tall, lithe form. Ethereal, opaque lavender eyes settled half lidded and seemingly bored on his kin and he fingered a long lock of silky dark hair between the violet painted fingers of one smooth hand and heaved a sigh. 

“Tell me about the boy,” he ordered in that same soft spoken, melodic tone that stilled all other sound around them. He was most interested in the little mortal that seemed to be the cause of all kinds of wrinkles in the holy and unholy fabrics of the netherworlds. Both demons opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but Lucifer held up his other hand to keep them silent, “I’ve no desire to _listen_ to the grating of your voices. I want the unclouded versions. Give them to me, your memories. Don’t make me force them out of you.”

Neither of the other two demons argued, offered up their recollections to their sibling and waited unbreathing as he viewed them with eyes gone distant and images flickering behind the lavender depths. A perfectly white fanged smile pulled across Lucifer’s mouth as the images tapered behind his eyes. And when he spoke, it was with more interest than he’d had in centuries, “Most intriguing… I think, I should like to meet this mortal that enslaves fallen angels unwittingly.”

Chapter 10 Blooper Reel

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Four*

**Ciel _(shifts between Sebastian’s legs)_ :** Mmm… 

 

_(Sebastian slips beneath the water and proceeds to suck Ciel off without coming up for air)_

 

**Ciel:** Sebastian! Sebastian! Sebas-- Sebastian?

 

_(A few bubbles surface.)_

 

**Ciel _(frowns and tugs at Sebastian’s hair)_ :** Sebastian, this is not funny… I don’t know CPR, so if this is some ploy to get me to give you mouth to mouth, you’re going to be sorely disappoint-- Ahhhh! Cum- Cumming. Jesus Christ!

 

_(Sebastian surfaces with a grin.)_

 

**Sebastian:** Did I scare you sweetling?

**Ciel _(scowls and smacks Sebastian)_ :** Quit your grinning you shit. I would have let you drown. 

**Sebastian:** Well lucky for me I don’t need oxygen to exist, though I wouldn’t mind a little mouth to mouth…

 

_(Ciel huffs and grumbles about demon sex perks and the unfairness of the world while pushing Sebastian back under the water.)_

 

_Cut!_

 

 

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Seven*

**Ciel:** You were delayed, once I had called you. What kept you?

**Sebastian:** I got stuck in traffic. Rush hour in Paris is horrendous. 

 

_Cut!_

 

 

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Nine*

**Ciel _(Ciel becomes jealous at the mention of Aloson being Sebastian’s past lover, he grips the sides of the tub and proceeds to get to his feet, except that he doesn’t. His feet give out from under him half way up, he loses his balance and falls face first on Sebastian’s dick. Gasping, he comes up for air, holding his right eye.)_ :** Jesus Christ! _(moves his hand from his eye still facing Sebastian,)_ Does it look bad?

 

**Sebastian:** Mm, do you think anyone will notice if we switch your eyepatch to the other side?

 

_Cut!_

 

 

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Ten*

 

_(Sebastian steps out of the tub, pulls the plug and scoops Ciel up in his arms again, wrapping the boy in a plus towel, the water evaporating from his own skin._

 

**Ciel _(crosses his arms, grumbles annoyed)_ :** Why can’t you dry me like that? _(points to the steam curling off Sebastian’s skin)_

**Sebastian:** You’re pretty when you’re wet.

**Ciel _(grumbling)_ :** I seriously doubt that’s what Dumbledore says to Harry before he dries him off in _Half-Blood Prince_...

**Sebastian:** He does in the adult version, Hairy Potter and the Half-Hard Prince.

 

_Cut!_

 

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Twelve*

**Sebastian:** As for my reasons for doting upon you, you are entirely mistaken in your assumptions. I do it so that you’ll be more willing to bend over for me in the future.

**Ciel _(crosses his arms, unimpressed)_ :** Seriously?

**Sebastian:** Of course. Demon of Lust, remember? Now then, if you’d be so kind...

 

_Cut!_

 

 

*Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Thirteen*

 

_(Sebastian dried Ciel with the same doting care he had in washing him and carrying him and once finished, his fingers combed through his hair tenderly, untangling the midnight locks lovingly and massaging his scalp.)_

 

**Ciel: What are you doing?  
**   
**Sebastian:** Massaging your hair follicles.

 

****Ciel _(suspicious)_ :** Why?**

 

****Sebastian:** Baldness is hereditary sweetling.**

 

****Ciel _(eagerly pressing his head into Sebastian’s hands)_ : ** Put your back into it.**

 

**  
**_Cut!_  


 

 

***Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bedroom) Take Fifteen***

 

**  
**_(Sebastian watches Ciel leaning against the wall, dragging himself upright and taking ten excruciating steps before dropping to his knees, cursing.)_  


 

****Ciel _(whips his head around to see a smirk plastered on Sebastian’s face)_ :** How much of that did you see?**

 

****Sebastian:** Enough. _(Conjures a lawn chair and lubricant. Tries to unfold the lawn chair, but it’s jammed, struggles with it, and puts his foot through it, grumbling about shoddy French craftsmanship)_**

 

**  
**_(Ciel smirks)_  


 

**  
**_Cut!_  


 

 

***Scene Ten “Doting” (Paris Apartment Bedroom) Take Twenty-Three***

 

****Sebastian:** Can you honestly say that, without gluttony running in your veins, if I should choose to take you just now, you would refuse? If I might be so bold, I’m calling your bluff sweetling.**

 

****Ciel _(cocks his head and grins)_ :** Depends…**

 

****Seb:** On...**

 

****Ciel:** How much Rohypnol did you put in my parfait?**

 

****Seb:** How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?**

 

****Ciel:** Are you asking me, personally or in general? _(Starts wolfing down the parfait)_**

 

****Sebastian _(Counts down on his fingers as Ciel devours the treat and passes out cold on the bed.)_ :** Excellent. **

 

**  
**_Cut!_  



	11. Airborne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter is: Be careful what you wish for.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Begin the End by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyQ2Q8DPtxI)  
> Ciel~ [Doomed by Bring Me The Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbZiSU2YoUI)

When Ciel came to some ten hours later, he was careful to keep his breathing consistent and make sure the evidence of if wasn’t exaggerated in the expansion of his ribs. An easy smile crept across his face and he resisted pushing himself into Sebastian’s firm, possessive hold. He felt safe, like he was home (though he’d never admit it), and if he was completely honest with himself, home had never felt quite like this. Funny that it should be Lust that provided him with a sense of calm, comfort and belonging. 

He’d not moved at all in his sleep, in fact, he’d slept like that dead, facing away from the demon. His lithe body had curved itself intimately into Sebastian’s, head tucked under the the larger male’s chin, his back against his lover’s tightly muscled chest where he felt an echo of a false heartbeat, his rear nestled against the ever-present rigidity (a reminder of his servant’s perpetual readiness), and his feet entwined with his demon’s in a poor attempt to keep them tethered should he try to escape. The fact that it all felt human, too warm and familiar was slightly disappointing. He peeked through his lashes and saw the light come through the slits between the feathers of the other male’s wings; it would be enough for him to see his lover’s true form, or at least catch a glimpse of Asmodeus’ skin. 

He squinted, trying to make out _any_ discrepancies, a different colour perhaps? Fur? Scales? Plumage? Anything! But there was only unblemished flesh. At that very moment, Ciel Phantomhive was probably the only individual in history to have ever roused from sleep, disappointed to be laying next to Sebastian’s perfect, soft milky skin with his long, slender, soot-tipped fingers dragging themselves lazy but still seductively along the teen’s sternum, his mid-section and down some more until his breath hitched. He huffed, frustration making his body buzz; his lover’s hands hadn’t been teasing him moments ago- how had the bastard realized his master had been awake?

Sebastian hummed huskily behind Ciel’s ear, appreciative as he nuzzled into the soft strands of hair tucked behind it, inhaling the sweet scent of him mingled with the spice of his own. “Good morning sweetling, how did you sleep?” he murmured, breath stirring against the delicate curve of the young man’s ear and down the marked flesh of his neck while the demon’s smooth fingertips and black lacquered fingernails caressed over the silky soft skin of Ciel’s belly and hips adoringly. He was perfectly pleased to stay in bed with his little lover a little longer, even if the young man was pouting for still being denied a proper viewing of Sebastian’s true form. Curious as his little butterfly was, he wasn’t ready for the revelation. Once he _saw_ Sebastian, he would no longer be blind to the horrific forms of the dead and unholy from beyond the veil, most of which were what could only be adequately described as grotesque, more so than the fallen angel himself.

“Not bad. God, stop doing that!” Ciel said groggily shooing the demon’s hands away from himself, his mood still slightly sour. He extricated himself from Sebastian’s grasp, and stretched stiffly to the side of the bed where he reached for his phone. He groaned when he saw the time; so much for breakfast or lunch, he’d have to make due with dinner at this point. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, weary about standing again and glanced over his shoulder to glare at the man in his bed. Ciel looked him up and down, not even trying to conceal the lust in his perusal. Sebastian arched an eyebrow and smirked. _Stupid, irritating, appealing demon!_ Part of him would love to order Sebastian to stay in his bed just as he was, not to ever move a perfectly carved muscle. An even larger part didn’t want the demon to leave his side, the pull and bond between them becoming stronger by the day, to the point that it was beginning to manifest itself as a weakness. He put it out of his mind; it’s something he would have to come to terms with, but not at this very second. “Am I going to be able to make it to the shower on my own, or will you have to carry me?” he asked, looking towards the bathroom and away from his lover as a blush steadily climbed from his neck and onto his face.

Sebastian chuckled breathily, reaching out to cup Ciel’s hip with a tender hand and bowed forward to breathe novacaine kisses over his lower back, humming and kneading appreciatively at Ciel’s skin as the young man arched and shivered despite his best effort not to. The demon pulled back reluctantly and released his grip on his lover’s hip, his wings melting back into and staining his skin as he sat up proper in the bed. “You’ll be fine now sweetling. Any requests for dinner?”

Ciel rose from the bed effortlessly, phone in hand and the blue of his irises hid under his lids as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “And to think, you could have joined me in the shower if you weren’t so damned slow.” He said no more, not even bothering to answer Sebastian’s query about dinner as he dragged the sheet off the bed to cover his bottom half, a show of mock modesty for his lover.

“If you’d like me to accompany you butterfly, you need only ask,” the demon said, cocking his head, lips quirked up in a knowing little grin as he moved to follow Ciel, watching him through hooded lashes. The boy really was so fickle like a stubborn little pussycat; he was rather adorable while bearing his teeth and brandishing his prickly little claws. 

Ciel snorted rudely; he wasn’t in the habit of having to ask for anything, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. The bathroom was already illuminated thanks to the large skylight, and he took a seat at the vanity, crossing his legs and waiting for the servant to start the shower and get it to an acceptable temperature. He ran a hand lazily through his hair as his thumb scrolled through various missed phone calls and texts from acquaintances and colleagues; Lizzie had left him two dickpics, and four voicemails. Soma had only left a question mark as a text and he knew exactly what it meant; he would have to respond once the demon was out of sight.

Sebastian found the perfect temperature as always and turned towards the young man, watching him through the reflection of the mirror while Ciel’s attention was elsewhere, admiring him shamelessly. He slipped up behind the young man and caressed his nape to draw his attention, “Come sweetling, the rest of the world can wait. I’ll wash your back for you.”

Sighing, Ciel reluctantly left his phone on the vanity as the washroom filled with steam and he let himself be led into the large glass-encased shower where at least half a dozen rainfall shower heads poured water from overhead. Once properly inside, he closed his eyes and let the hot water beat against his face and cascade over the soft edges of his body.

The demon was quick to follow Ciel beneath the steamy spray, immediately procuring a generous dollop of the vaguely honey scented soap, swiftly lathering it between his hands. He then placed them on Ciel’s shoulders, tenderly massaging the suds into the violet dappled porcelain flesh. He leaned into the boy’s backside, hands migrating to soap over his chest, paying careful teasing attention to sensitive spots and eagerly peaked nipples that made Ciel arch and shiver against him. He hummed appreciatively, lips brushing the soft damp shell of one flushed ear and he rocked his greedy stiffness against the dip of Ciel’s spine, boldly making his intentions known. He was more than eager to show his lover the depths of his affections again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you're so thirsty all the time, Sebastian,” Ciel hissed as his head lolled to the side, giving the taller man easy access to his much abused, and therefore over-sensitive neck. He pushed against the demon, the suds providing a lustrous slippery coating between them as he stood on the tips of his toes, then let himself descend slowly against Sebastian’s thickened, ridged length. He repeated the action once, twice, then the third time, his back arched and his hand found Sebastian’s insatiable cock, drove it downwards just to feel its resistance, forcing the tip of it to prod his backside.

Sebastian answered with a guttural purr of pleasure, rutting against the young man’s backside, revelling in the pressure of Ciel’s hand on his cock. “I’m afraid it’s in my nature sweetling. I’m unable to abstain when my precious little _mate_ is so intoxicating, so greedy and eager. Tell me, my love, how shall I curb my appetites when your skin is begging for my claim?” he murmured, sliding his hands down Ciel’s chest and over his smooth, wet belly to his awakened arousal, cupping and kneading the boy’s enthusiastic manhood with a firm, gentle and almost reverent grip.

"Don't you dare put this on me, demon. I'm not at all convinced that these feelings are uniquely my own; I'm almost sure you're manipulating the situation somehow…” Ciel managed to say between shuddering gasps. He was pulsing, throbbing, driving himself relentlessly into Sebastian’s grip, begging for friction. “And right now I don't care if you are, to be perfectly honest. It's just meaningless sex, right?” His hand continued to caress and pump the demon’s silken length, holding it firmly at the base and squeezing upwards in a vague imitation of what he was experiencing. He ran his thumb over the slit, spreading the demon’s lubricant over the head and multiple ridges then released him altogether, causing it to spring teasingly against his rear. Unable to resist, he brought his hand to his mouth to lick, suck and taste the bittersweet residue of his lover before he brought his fingers up to the sensual mouth behind him.

“Mm, if it’s _meaningless_ , perhaps I should leave you this way,” the demon growled huskily, threatening and obviously finding the term distasteful, his hands stilling as his lips brushed against Ciel’s seeking fingertips while he answered. His body was still pressed against the young man’s, but his hips were unmoving, cock throbbing between the plush cheeks of Ciel’s bottom, the grip of his hand on the boy’s erection firming and relaxing its grip but withholding the pleasurable stroking of his fisted fingers.

Ciel’s head whipped around to look Sebastian squarely in the face, unused to such a biting tone from his servant; he was surprised to find the crimson coloured eyes alight with repulsion. His own face remained completely impassive, though he felt anything but. He was confused as to how the demon would have been hung up on such a word, why should their couplings be anything other than inconsequential, especially given the demon’s actual nature? He arched a disbelieving eyebrow, and brought his hand down to where Sebastian’s grip still held firm but unmoving and pushed it aside. 

Salvation came in the form of sharp ringing and vibrating from just outside the shower. “That’s fine,” he shrugged, nonplussed, “Suit yourself. _My_ nature is not nearly as dependent on this kind of release as yours is, Asmodeus.” He moved away from the demon, and wiped his hand on the plush towel on which his phone was located; he swiped left and answered as he made his way back into the heat of the shower, but out of the water’s reach. 

“Hey babe, thanks for the dickpics, just what I needed to wake up to,” he answered, turning away from Sebastian’s still figure, “Why are you harassing me today?”

Sebastian exhaled a harsh breath, his jaw twitching as sharp teeth clenched. He tossed his head and glared at the suds as the water washed them away down the drain. His butterfly was testing his patience, but Ciel was far too young to be issuing such challenges. If the boy wanted to play such games and deny him the truths between them, he was going to find himself at a loss. “We shall see about that my love,” he murmured under his breath as he watched Ciel’s back for several long moments.

His sharp hearing picked up the tones of the young man’s cousin on the other end of the phone line and he snorted derisively as he turned away and left the shower, body drying within seconds, the moisture steaming away as he moved purposefully towards the kitchen to prepare something for his master to eat despite his irritation, fully clothed in soft cloud gray, scoop necked sweater that showed off the delicious arch of collarbone and clavicle and smooth curve of broad muscled shoulders paired with loose, casual charcoal trousers. He padded barefoot into the kitchen and set the kettle to boiling as he pulled out ingredients for the young man’s supper.

***

“You’re welcome! I’m not interrupting anything, am I? I’ve called you like five times already. What’s that sound? Are you-- You’re in the shower aren’t you? Was that your _assistant_ I just heard?” Lizzie greeted her cousin, a cheekily suspicious and knowing quality to her tone. She had good reason to be calling, but there was no reason to dive right into it. After all, they hadn’t spoken since they’d last seen one another and she’d snuck away before he’d woken in the morning.

“Yeah, I’m in the shower, and you’re not interrupting _anything_ ” he answered, rolling his eyes, a mixture of longing and exasperation swelling inside him as he watched Sebastian’s figure leave the washroom. Honestly, what was with the melodramatic attitude? And it wasn’t like he could exactly confide in Lizzie or ask her for her advice about the whole mess either. “So what’s the emergency?”

Lizzie twirled a lock of wheat blond hair between her fingers and hummed noncommittally, not at all buying his denial. His voice sounded awfully breathy for someone just having a usual evening shower and she was positive she had heard Sebastian there with him. She had to wonder why he was being so tight lipped about it; she’d have never thought he’d be shy about that sort of thing, but she’d have to wait to bully the dirty details out of him another time. 

“When are you coming home for the funeral? Auntie Rachel said she hadn’t heard from you and asked me to ask you,” she replied carefully, knowing how touchy the subject was likely to be for her cousin.

“I’m not. I mean, I can’t, Lizzie.” It was odd for his mother to make contact with his cousin when she hadn’t even attempted to make contact with him despite his having left a few messages for her. He stepped out of the shower, not even bothering to turn off the water and held the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he wrapped the plush towel around his waist and made his way out of the washroom, shivering while the hair plastered to his face and his neck dripped down his torso. The moment he reached the bedroom, he fell into bed and pulled the duvet up to his chin, “I’m in Paris on a job, I won’t be able to make it home in time.” No clothes had been set out for him, how impertinent of the servant; he had half a mind to call him in here and… and what? Ciel couldn’t very well let Sebastian see that the lack of this small doting gesture disarmed him.

Lizzie sighed heavily into the receiver, “Are you sure you wanna miss it Ciel? I know you and uncle Vincent didn’t really get on, but you should be here for your mom. You’re really going to leave her to deal with the vultures on her own?” she questioned; she could be nearly as stubborn as he could. Her aunt had looked so tired when she had seen her, forgetful and too quiet as well and she’d only asked after Ciel like she hadn’t spoken to him in years.

“What the hell, Lizzie! Tone down the guilt-tripping!” He knew his cousin was manipulative, knew she was a master at it, but this was even low for her. Of course he wanted to be there for his mother, he just didn’t want to be _there_. “You’re going aren’t you? Just keep an eye on her; I’ll make it up to you when I go back to London, anything you want, okay?”

The girl huffed, her brow furrowing and lips pursing. “Of course I will, and of course you fucking owe me, but I still think you should come Ciel. If you don’t, you might regret it,” she said, relenting, but not. She wouldn’t be angry with him or condemn him for not attending, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be present while his father was laid to rest. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the urging sense of foreboding was strong.

As a rule, he didn't regret things and if he did, he buried the feeling, suffocated and smothered it until the intrusive thoughts gave him peace. He shifted in his bed, his arousal still present; even Lizzie’s pestering had done nothing to soften him. Damn that demon! He'd have been fine enough to shower on his own without getting worked up. The more he thought about his brief encounter with Sebastian, the more he pulsed under the sheets. A sound escaped his lips, something between a sigh and a lament, and he flushed, embarrassed that he’d momentarily forgotten he’d been holding his phone, “Uh, I have to get some _work_ done…” He said, hesitating and hoped it was a good enough reason to sound exasperated, “I won't promise that I'll show up, but I'll give it some consideration okay?”

“That’s all I can ask for. What kind of work are you and Sebastian up to that you can’t slip away from anyways? Has there been any more _progress_ between the two of you?” she asked curiously, suspicion under the tone again, stubbornly refusing to let him escape just yet. Maybe he wasn’t working at all; maybe he and his assistant were eloping or something. How romantic would that be? After the kind of passion she had heard, it wouldn’t surprise her if they’d run away together to Paris to escape the obligation of family like in some epic love story. She was so envious and so happy for him.

“Just _family business_ … I bet Vincent’ll be rolling in his grave once he’s six feet under just knowing that I skived off work to be there,” Ciel snorted, “And what you heard the other day, you eavesdropping pervert, was, _is_ the extent of my relationship with Sebastian; purely carnal- hasn’t really progressed beyond that.” He wasn’t complaining, not really. He just wasn’t going to confound obligation for affection. Theirs was a story of passion and possession not love. 

Lizzie hummed skeptically, tapping a pale pink painted fingertip to her pout lips. “Was that a mutual decision or just yours? I saw how he was looking at you Ciel… It was like the rest of the world didn’t exist to him. It sure looked like more than lust to me,” she said, pausing only a moment before she continued without waiting for the argument she was sure he would make, “I know it’s not my business, but a piece of advice, don’t ruin this for yourself. You need to trust someone else sometime. If you let him, I bet Sebastian can make you happy Ciel. Anyways, I’m done lecturing you for today. We’ll talk again soon. Much love, ciao!” And she hung up without waiting for an answer, perfectly happy to have the last word in their conversation.

Ciel gaped at the phone in disbelief and with utter disgust; leave it to Lizzie to give him completely unsolicited advice about something she knew absolutely nothing about. He knew the look Sebastian gave him, it wasn’t unlike the look he gave a dish of roasted guineafowl before devouring it; at best, it could be called tempted or enticed, but it could not be mistaken for love. 

Speaking of his favourite dish, Ciel could ambiguously make out the aroma of cardamom, chocolate and radicchio wafting from under his bedroom door. How did the demon always know? He stood from the bed, swallowing the excess saliva and rubbed his belly sympathetically as he shot mental daggers at the door.

He threw on a snug, navy button-down shirt and faded grey slim-fitted jeans; and since it was November, added an oversized black cardigan, grey cashmere scarf and combat-styled boots. He got hold of his eyepatch and was securing it in place as he walked confidently into the suite’s spotless, lavish kitchen where he found Sebastian positioning one of four courses he had prepared onto a formally set table. Ciel’s stomach growled furiously as though urging him to change his plans, but his pride would not be swayed. 

“I’m going out for dinner and I’ll be gone a couple of hours. See that my belongings are packed and make the necessary arrangements so that we can fly back home this evening,” he said finally tearing his gaze away from the delicious feast and gave Sebastian a patronizing half-smile.

The demon didn’t respond verbally, though his jaw twitched, holding back a growl of displeasure as he stilled in his motions and narrowed his gaze at his lover. He hadn’t been expecting they’d be leaving quite so soon, the following morning at the latest which would have left ample amount of time for his butterfly to mend without his numbing kisses.He was not pleased by the prospect of their departure and even less so by Ciel’s sudden desire to leave the apartment without him. True, his master had not ordered him to remain, but the implication was there; Ciel wanted to be alone.

Even so, once the boy had left, Sebastian wasted no time in sending his familiar to keep an eye on his lover. Stubborn as his lovely butterfly was, Sebastian was not about to abandon his vigilance, not after the previous night’s events.

***

Once downstairs, Ciel called an Uber and set off for les Champs-Elysees, instructing the driver to sit and wait for him while he dined. Once he sat on the winterized rooftop terrace at _L’Oiseau Blanc_ , he ordered guineafowl aromatized with cardamom, parsnip and radicchio sauce with bitter chocolate, took in the view of the Eiffel Tower as the sun set and properly read through Soma’s text.

 **Soma:** _?_

 **Soma:** _Why were you even attending a Masquerade at Versailles? Let me know if you were successful in retrieving the item from the Royal Chapel._

 **Ciel:** _Don’t ask. It was a pain in the ass, quite literally. Yes, I was successful. Now what? Have you deciphered the texts?_

By the end of his meal, Soma still hadn’t responded, but texting his friend had given him a relatively nasty idea. He paid his bill, ducked into a small depanneur to get a pack of gum and some other essentials for his trip.

Sebastian was waiting for him when Ciel returned, lips pursed and eyes narrowed at the bag tucked in the crook of the young man’s arm and the scent of other people that he’d picked up while he was out in the masses. His familiar was perched on the sill above the demon’s head, gaze as sharp and knowing as its master’s. “I took the liberty of locking up while you were taking in the _scenery_. We’re going to be late if we linger any longer,” he said stiffly as the cab pulled up and he immediately put the luggage in the trunk, moving to open the door and hurry Ciel into the backseat as soon as he’d stowed everything aside from the parcel in Ciel’s arms. If Ciel protested, Sebastian chose not to listen.

Ciel cleared his throat as Sebastian made to get into the back seat with him, “Sit up front with the driver, Sebastian.” He didn't appreciate the demon’s dismissive tone and clearly the time he'd given him while he went out had done nothing to alleviate his mood. Once he had complied with his order and the taxi had started its progress towards the airport, Ciel took a piece of gum from the pack he'd purchased earlier as well as an old hot pink Motorola Razor flip-phone and programmed it to his liking. He leaned forward, tapping Sebastian on the shoulder and handed it to him, “If you had one of these, we could have just met at the airport. From now on, you're to have this on you at all times. You’ll answer the phone when it rings by swiping this button,” he instructed, “And you will reply to all my texts and only mine, honestly and truthfully by using this app. Do you understand?” He leaned back into the seat, crossing his legs as he watched the driver's shocked and exasperated expression; who was this _child_ to order around a grown man of such distinguished appearance?

“Of course, _my lord,_ ” the demon agreed in a low tone, accepting the device without paying any particular attention to it. He wasn’t much in the mood for Ciel’s petulance and entitlement, still sore over the nonchalant brush-off his lover had given him not so long ago. He ignored the incredulous look the driver gave him, snorting softly and turning to look out the window intently so that he wouldn’t be tempted to look back at the young man in the backseat or to flash dangerous teeth and feline eyes at the driver just to get a rise out of him. It was the longest trip to the airport he had ever had the displeasure of taking.

Lucky for them, Charles de Gaulle airport was not particularly busy at half past midnight when they were lining up to board the plane. As per Phantomhive custom, Sebastian had purchased all the seats in First Class (as well as offering the airline an indecent amount of money to cancel those pre-planned trips), and made sure to have the seats reserved in Economy Class for children and their parents cancelled as well; if there was one thing Ciel despised (like his father before him), it was travelling in proximity of a crying child. 

The young man looked around, taking notice of the individuals they would be flying with this evening, ranking them in order of attractiveness as he refused to pay any attention to his - what did Lizzie call him- his _assistant_ , still petulant about having been abandoned in the shower for such a seemingly trivial reason. It frustrated him more than anything that he did not understand _why_ it had offended the demon. He could ask; but that would make him appear weak, concerned. It would play into Sebastian’s hands, wouldn’t it? But these feelings nagged at him all the same; because he had begun to confuse his desire for the demon with something purer. 

When Vincent had amended their bond to include, _The servant shall not feign human affections to draw in his charge_ , he had clearly foreseen the demon doing so, had known Ciel would be weak and unable to resist. And even if Sebastian wasn’t putting him on with his affections, it did not mean that he didn’t plan to consume him in the end. His doting act, his fake affection, it was all for sweetening his soul wasn’t it? If it was to be devoured, he would not make a tasty meal of it. He _needed_ to get in contact with Soma, needed to figure out the next step, so he could put an end to all of this, but he could not do so with Sebastian nearby. 

Moments before their boarding call, Ciel’s luck improved and he locked eyes with a man, who appeared roughly Sebastian’s _human_ age and with a similarly delicious build, though the stranger had long wavy blond hair and cool, muted cornflower-blue eyes. _You’ll do just fine_ , Ciel thought, beckoning the stranger with his finger coyly, not unlike the way he did to Sebastian in the Royal Chapel a mere twenty-four hours ago. The blond looked surprised, a lovely blush coloring his fair skin as he secured his backpack over his shoulder and obediently made his way to Ciel. The young master could practically feel Sebastian’s eyes narrow in suspicion, heard the faint hiss escape pursed lips. 

“You’ve been upgraded gorgeous, can I see your ticket?” The stranger, a backpacker by the looks of it, gave him his ticket without hesitation and Ciel handed it to the demon while he gave the stranger (whose name he didn’t care to know) the ticket intended for Sebastian. Ciel cocked his head, making a show of appreciating the blond man’s physique, “I have First Class all to myself, we _could_ get to know one another better, in a more private setting that is...” 

To his delight, the stranger’s blush only intensified as he swallowed hard and nodded his head, “My name is Elias.” Ciel barely made out his name over the boarding call, but it wouldn't have mattered either way. 

“Charmed. Why don’t you lead the way,” he said breathily, taking care to wet his lips then rake his teeth over his bottom lip. _God, just about as obedient as the pet I already have_ , he thought as he watched the stranger make his way down the hall that led to the plane. Ciel stopped at his servant’s shoulder, before leaving himself and brushed Sebastian’s tightly fisted hand, “I can see why you’re so taken by blue eyes. Enjoy your flight, _lover_.”

Sebastian growled, the noise so low, it sounded like far off thunder as he watched his lover follow the stranger that Ciel had decided as his replacement. He was being punished and he was aware of it, but it did nothing to change the frustrated jealousy and foul irritation it provoked. He sighed harshly through his nose and made his way to his new seats, consoling himself with fantasies of peeling the skin from Ciel's blond companion’s bones remorselessly.

He seated himself, crossed his arms tightly over his chest and closed his eyes mostly to avoid any of the mortals around noticing the inhuman quality to them. He was too agitated to concentrate on controlling the shifting of the depths from human to not, his concentration elsewhere. He was trying to scheme a way in which to both make his point and retaliate against his young master; he would _make_ Ciel understand, he just needed to come up with a plan. 

Ciel checked his phone and still not a single word from Soma. He sat next to the backpacker and put a finger to his lips to silence him before he spoke. He held up his phone, then found his contact list, indicating that he should program his own name and number. He knew Sebastian was listening, would be trying to discern what was being said, so this was the only way to communicate with the confused man beside him, to make sure his plan didn’t go sideways; by the end of this flight, he would force the demon to show his true intentions.

**Ciel:** _My name is Ciel. Don’t say a word. The man who is currently occupying your seat is my lover and he’s wronged me. I’m not interested in pursuing anything with you. Before you get upset, know that you stand to gain fifty thousand dollars if you go along with what I’m proposing._

The man read the text, then re-read it twice. 

**Elias:** _Sure. What do I have to do? Are we making him jealous?_

**Ciel:** _Yes, but you’ll follow my lead. I’ll wire half the money to your account now, and the other half once we land._

They shook hands and true to his word, Ciel deposited twenty-five thousand dollars to Elias’ account once the blonde had shared the information with him. 

“It’s warm in First Class, let me help you with your shirt,” Ciel spoke in the same throaty voice he’d used before boarding the plane. “I’m so... thirsty.”

**Ciel:** _Take off your scarf and jacket; and undo the top three, no four buttons. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes, I need you to poke your head in Economy and ask for the flight attendant to bring us a 2014 St-Paul’s Pinot Grigio._

Elias was obedient indeed, or in need of money and did exactly as Ciel instructed.

Sebastian was unnaturally still as he listened, seeking Ciel’s voice over the static din of the other passengers, but he could hear only what must be his master’s heartbeat. Then he heard it and seconds after, his narrowed eyes opened to see the young blond man hovering by the curtained entrance. He was running a hand through his disheveled hair and trying to signal the flight attendant at the other end of the deck and Sebastian’s lips curled back in a nasty sneer as he took in the casually unbuttoned collar and rolled up sleeves. His young master was doing this on purpose, had sent the young man back in such a state in the hopes of infuriating his demon, to instigate some kind of violent reaction from him. Ciel was testing him. 

He caught the cornflower blue eyes and smirked when the young backpacker paled and visibly swallowed. He was afraid… As he should be. If he touched Ciel, his soul would be forfeit; Ciel _belonged_ to Sebastian whether his butterfly wished to admit it or not. The eye contact was broken when the attendant hurried over to assist the first class passenger. It was a clever attempt of his lover’s, but Ciel would have to try harder than that if he wished for Sebastian to lose control of himself and forfeit his own victory.

Elias returned to his seat, and Ciel noticed he was unmistakably shaken.

**Elias** _He’s not going to kill me, is he, your lover that is?_

Ciel snorted. _Kill_ , no. His soul on the other hand… Ciel simply shook his head. He didn’t expect Sebastian to come tearing into First Class; he would not make a spectacle of himself, but ordering wine and having the blond look disheveled wouldn't be enough. 

**Ciel:** _The flight attendant is going to come in here any minute, I’ll need you to strip down to your underwear. Then, I’m going to remove my jacket, you’re going to rub my shoulders. Keep it above the shirt, and keep going until I tell you to stop._

Once the aircraft had taken off, the pretty young attendant moved the curtain that separated First Class and Economy Class aside, hands full of wine and two flutes. When Ciel heard her gasp at Elias’ state of undress, he smirked. With feigned embarrassment, he and his companion simply watched her deposit the items in a seat next to them and retreat, but not before catching sight of her flushed face. 

Ciel put Elias’ hands on his shoulders and squeezed them hard, closing his eyes and sighing, “Right there… Mm…” The touch hurt, his bruises not having healed, but he knew it would accelerate his heartbeat. He pictured Sebastian's long fingers gripping him last night, hoisting him onto the altar, spreading his legs, his strong hands kneading his skin eagerly. He moaned at the memory, heard Elias gasp in surprise, either at the marks he could detect on Ciel’s neck and exposed skin as he pulled at the shirt to rub the shoulders, or by his legitimate surprise for pulling such a reaction out of the stranger who had lured him into First Class.

“He’s practically naked!” he vaguely heard the flight attendant tell someone. 

**Ciel:** _Get dressed now._

The man obeyed, and Ciel pressed the back button and scrolled down until he found Sebastian’s name on his contact list. 

**Ciel:** _So inexperienced and clumsy. Nothing like you, lover. What are you feeling?_

Sebastian was glaring daggers at the flushed woman that had come hurrying back from first class with gossip on her lips and his aura became so dark that the people in the other seats began to shift uncomfortably. And thankfully, the whore abruptly shut up just as the device in the front left pocket of his trousers vibrated against his thigh. He shifted his gaze from the flustered flight attendant as he pulled the phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen as prompted.

Sharp eyes read and reread the message that popped up, lips twisted in displeasure. He took a moment to figure out the mechanics of the touch screen keys and once he did, his thumbs flew over them, furiously responding and not only because he was compelled to. 

**Fido:** _Pity mostly. Does your playmate know that you’ve as good as served me his soul? So cunning sweetling. You should not test the depths of my avarice in such a setting. I’ve no shame to be spared in taking you in front of all of them._

Ciel smirked at the threat then glanced at his companion. The blond was just sitting there, waiting for his next command like a dog. Sebastian was right, pitiful his playmate was. 

**Ciel:** _You denied me this morning lover, and so you’ve as good as served me this delicious stranger._

He _was_ testing Sebastian, his devotion, his affections and he wanted nothing more than to know their depths. He needed to force a reaction. He stood abruptly and took Elias by the hand and led him to the curtain, “I can’t wait anymore.” He pulled his shirt out of his fitted jeans, concealing a hardness that had swelled as he’d briefly fantasized about the demon. “Give it a minute, then come to me in the restroom at the back of the plane.” He gripped the curtain so irritably, pushing it aside with a violence he himself did not know he possessed, that it fell from the rungs and onto the floor. He felt their eyes on him, all of them, but none so intensely as the demon’s crimson glare. He kept his head straight, chin slightly elevated aristocratically and made his way to the back of the aircraft.

The demon scoffed under his breath, but didn’t get the chance to respond to the text before Ciel made his dramatic claim and even more dramatic entrance to the coach deck. He watched him as he moved, tracking him all the way to the restrooms until he disappeared into the one on the left. He didn’t have to look back to know the blond would follow and he was out of his seat and in his path so quickly, there was a gasp from the flight attendant.

“That’ll be quite enough of this farce. Return to your seat,” Sebastian said with feigned politeness, a vicious smile painted over his perfect mouth and he spun the young man back in the direction he’d come from, gripping his shoulders harshly and murmuring next to his ear, “I wouldn’t touch him again if you don’t wish to know what hell looks like,” before he sent him stumbling on his way.

Sebastian turned, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from his clothing and only had to look at the flight attendant for her to scurry out of his way, any words of protest dying in her throat as he went in pursuit of his mate. He slipped into the obscenely small bathroom and wasted no time in thrusting Ciel into the wall opposite, forcing his chest flush with it as his hand cupped around his throat. “I’d never have served you something so unrefined. I _know_ just how lavish your tastes run my love,” he whispered as a forked tongue flickered over Ciel’s ear.

A cry of surprise died in Ciel’s throat as pressure was added to his larynx. He’d meant to push Sebastian, force a reaction, but hadn’t expected it to take so little. He felt the demon’s hot breath bathing and dampening his skin, making it prickle pleasurably. “You know nothing,” he rasped through clenched teeth.

Sebastian growled and pressed the young man harder into the wall and his grip. “It’s you who understands nothing. You who does not realize the lies you speak. Do you know what it is to be meaningless, little butterfly? It means you are _nothing_. And if you are nothing, you are owed no kindnesses. You’re not seeking a lover, but a villain,” his voice was low, darkly honeyed and feral, scent spicy and possessive in the small cabin while his unoccupied hand traveled to Ciel’s trousers, sooty fingers roughly tearing them open and forcing them down so that he could grope roughly at the young man, ungentle and unrepentant. “So a villain I shall be. Go ahead and order me to desecrate you since you’re so eager. It’s not my desire, but yours to be _meaningless_ and who am I to deny the desires of my _master_?”

Ciel swallowed hard, unused to the harshness of the demon’s touch; unused to it, but still expecting it, to have it confirm all his suspicions. “Like hell it isn’t your desire, Asmodeus! You’ve been waiting to defile me since the moment you laid eyes on me.” His torso twisted uncomfortably so he could wind a hand into his lover’s hair, viciously grabbing a fistful, and pulling him in, feeling the frustration radiate off him like heat from a solar flare and it fed Ciel’s own irritation. “I’m sick of this act of yours, demon. Stop pretending and show me exactly how _meaningless_ a mere mortal like me is to your kind.”

Despite the obvious acrimony between the two, Ciel couldn’t stop himself from attacking Sebastian’s lips, his resentment from the shower returning full-force. He thrust his tongue into the demon’s mouth, tearing it on both sides as it pushed through the razor sharp teeth, making desperately painful sounds, but Sebastian didn’t relent. Instead, if anything the kiss turned even more feral, and try as he might, the demon refused to let him pull away. As his head thrashed from side to side, he felt the blood from this tongue rain from the corners of his mouth as the demon’s serpentine forked tongue strangled his own.

“Even devils can change their minds my lord. You want to blame me, condemn my love so you can justify how badly you crave to be tarnished and stained by it. You know nothing of what you are to me little butterfly, but you will,” the demon responded, pulling away and licking his lips, tone threatening, promising as he pressed Ciel’s cheek back to the chilly wall. There would be no more kisses, no more whispered romance and silken devotion; Sebastian would tourniquet his desire to treasure his mate, would make him feel meaningless if for no other reason than to strike contrast between the nature of his love and the more sinister appetites of his devilish blood.

He kept the boy pressed unforgivingly in the cramped space, caged and cornered without sympathy, lips drawn in a villainous grin of displeasure, allowing for the outcropping of his fangs to press against his lips and Ciel’s skin, dangerous at his nape. His hand forced Ciel’s trousers further down until they pooled at his feet and pressed him until he was bent uncomfortably with his rear on display. Sharp, charcoal nails prickled at the flesh of his hips, positioning and prostrating his mate as if he was meaningless, a nothing, a vessel in which to bury his cock, to sate his lust and leave broken beyond repair and so Ciel would be as he claimed. 

Finding the posture appropriate, he released his own angry and engorged arousal from the confines of his trousers and thrust it up against Ciel’s exposed backside, sliding between the soft cheeks without warning and minimal lubrication, the ribbed ridges raking over the tight pucker tauntingly. “I suggest you gag yourself my lord unless you wish for the other passengers to hear your screams,” he warned as he shifted his hips back minutely, held the boy’s hips and throat in a bruising, unrelenting grip, bowed over to flicker his tongue behind Ciel’s ear and whispered, “Or perhaps you’d like for them to hear your agony, come rushing and see what you’d have me make of you,” before his hips jerked forward with ruthless accuracy, forcing his cock inside the painfully tight sheath of his mate’s body, punishing and merciless.

Ciel's chin trembled, face pressed up against the wall as it was. Sebastian was right. It was _agony_. Ruthless and punishing, the demon’s cock felt barbed as it tore its way through him. He turned his visage away, unwilling for his _lover_ to see the sapphire shock, and something he vaguely identified as the beginnings of betrayal stirring inside him, as the apex of his head hit the wall with each painful snap of the demon’s hips. Tears of anguish stung his eyes and he bit down on his fist, unsuccessfully stifling a wail as it bounced off the walls of the enclosed space. Lamenting the loss of the demon’s prior gentle doting seduction, he shifted his mindset and found pleasure in the harsh gestures, knowing it would infuriate Sebastian to see him enjoying himself. “Ah! Nngh,” false moans and grunts fell from his lips, “Is that all you have, you demon fuck? Elias could have done this and he’s a mere mortal.” Ciel gripped the edges of the counter, waiting to be abused; the demon might not want to show his true physical form to his master, but he was displaying his true nature, dark as a starless night.

“Filthy liar. Do you taste your own lies as I do? I know what’s inside of you butterfly. Empty though you’re full of me, betrayed though you demanded degradation and starving because _nothing_ is always left hungry for meaning. You are as you see yourself, _meaningless_. You feel like nothing, taste like nothing and mean nothing to me. Are you satisfied?” the demon growled gutturally, viciously thrusting into the young man, allowing the darkest parts of his nature to crawl beneath his skin, locked his love away where it could not interfere with his orders. He fucked into Ciel without restraint with all the force and venom he possessed, forced his cock in and out, inflated it further, sharpened its ridges, split his master open under him and smiled painfully as lazy rivulets of blood ran down the young man’s inner thighs and hips where his nails bit harshly into the abused flesh. 

The walls shook around them as Sebastian’s aura curled dangerous, possessive, and predatory and he drew Ciel’s hips back to meet his ferociously aggressive thrusts, moving him as if he was a doll and nothing more, pinned, pillaged, raped and worthless. “Go on then; you fancy yourself a whore, scream like one.”

And Ciel did, screamed himself hoarse, felt his throat tear with the force of it until all that was left from his voice was an eroded echo. “Asmodeus… Ngh… Asmodeus! P-please...Mmm!” He wasn’t even sure why he was begging; whether it was for his lover to stop or to continue- he couldn’t be certain in this state. He spoke the demon’s name with a brutality and bitterness that left the name _Sebastian_ dead on his lips and in his mind. Everything broke inside Ciel at once, logic, restraint, barriers and feeling. Even though the demon spoke no new truths, confirmed everything Ciel had believed about himself and their relationship, the words still shocked and hurt in exactly the way they’d been intended. 

When the demon’s pace decelerated almost imperceptibly, he tried to move out from under him; to face him, for his lover to see the confusion writ large on his face, but the demon gave not an inch. He writhed under him, his legs weakened, barely supporting his weight, pain so white hot and intense running up his spine that falling hours before had been pleasurable in contrast; sweat, tears and blood spilled into the sink before him as he panted between now silent screams. “Is...that…” but the demon was not interested in what he had to say, and buried himself more ferociously and heartlessly inside the wrecked body he had loved the previous night, coming so close to the boy’s prostate, but missing it purposely, denying Ciel any kind of pleasure. The boy tried again, this time whispering so low, mouthing the words quickly, knowing the demon would hear them, “Is that why you’re insatiable, Asmodeus? Because you’re as empty as I am?”

“Your words, not mine, my darling. I offered you meaning and you spared me none. The cruelty of the fallen will never compare to that of mortal men and butterflies are only pretty until their wings are worn too thin to reach the heavens where they were first bred. If you are so empty, why squander what tears you have for this? They are as meaningless to me as the name on your lips,” the demon replied ferally, a darkness in his words that had not been there before, displeasured by the bitter moniker that he no longer found pride in like blasphemy on his lover’s tongue.

He stuffed himself as deeply and viciously as he could inside the young man, growling inhumanly, hips moving powerfully and without tenderness, teeth and claws splitting skin and spilling blood until he could restrain himself no longer. He pulled out abruptly, came with a vicious snarl across Ciel’s thighs, denying himself and his mate the precious claim he craved within as punishment. He watched the wasted pearls of his release mingle with the young man’s blood and stain Ciel’s beautiful bruised skin like the tears upon his cheeks, captivated and disgusted by the evidence of what he’d done. He’d not even attempted to resist the order, so angry, so _hurt_ had he been. When his voice came again, it was on a guarded breath, words a bellicose whisper from his forked tongue behind Ciel's ear, betrayed anguish and bitter possessiveness echoing through the bond beneath them, “Are you satisfied now _master_?”

With a whine he could no longer suppress, Ciel buckled and crumpled to the floor, his knees striking the hard blood and essence-splattered tiles and now screaming in protest along with the rest of his worn body. His hands clutched the rim of the sink from above as his head fell forwards, tightening his jaw to a painful degree, unwilling to shed tears of hurt pride; those he had shed had been for the agony of his physical body, and for that reason alone. One hand pressed to his palpitating heart as he caught his breath, cognizant of the tall figure who still stood behind him, waiting no doubt to be dismissed, “I’ll be… satisfied… once our year is done, Asmodeus,” he choked between ragged gasps, “See that when I get to the estate, you are locked within your cage, where you belong, _servant_. Now leave me.”

“So be it,” Sebastian murmured, already turning away from his lover, unable to refuse the oppressive command. He shouldn’t have been surprised by Ciel’s retribution, had known his little lover would not take responsibility for what part he’d played in their encounter just then, even though the young man had fully instigated it, but he somehow had not been expecting it. He returned to his seat, expression blank and void of emotion while a relative storm raged within. He ached in a steadily growing and desperately profound way. This was why love was not to be trusted.

 

Chapter 11 Blooper Reel

*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take One*

_(Seb singing[ I Wanna Know Love Is by Foreigner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raNGeq3_DtM) in the shower to Ciel.)_

**Ciel:** How is it that you don’t know modern swear words, but you can recite all the lyrics to _Foreigner_?

 **Sebastian:** My cage was located beneath your parents bedroom… You were conceived to this very song. 

**Ciel _(Completely mortified)_ :** Ugh yuk Sebastian yuk… Seriously…

 **Sebastian _(smirks)_ :** Do you want to know which of them is a screamer? I’ll give you a hint; it wasn’t your mom.

 **Ciel:** I’m going to spend my entire fortune on therapy, I swear.

_Cut!_

*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Paris Apartment Bathroom) Take Four*

 **Lizzie:** You’re welcome! I’m not interrupting anything, am I? _(clearly she is)_

 **Ciel:** Not at a--alllllll… Jesus Christ Sebastian! _(Sebastian has bent Ciel over and proceeded to enter him with no warning.)_

_Cut!_

*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Taxi) Take Five*

 **Ciel:** Sit up front with the driver, Sebastian. 

_(Sebastian snaps his fingers and breaks the driver’s neck, killing him, shoves him out of the moving taxi and proceeds to take the wheel.)_

**Ciel:** Where are we going?

 **Sebastian:** …

*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Taxi) Take Eight*

 **Ciel:** And you will reply to all my texts and only mine, honestly and truthfully by using this app. Do you understand?

 **Sebastian:** Pardon me _my lord_ , my tiny demon brain can’t comprehend… Doesn’t anyone scry anymore? What is this _google?_ How does one go about googling- I tried to research it and it keeps bringing me to the same page... And why do they call it a laptop if when you put it on your lap, it burns your penis? Why is your laptop filled with so many naked photos- it makes it even worse when it burns your penis. Is it some sort of sexual device designed for masochists? I miss the dark ages when torture devices made sense... What is this _sky-pee?_ We are receiving a call from someone called BigBassReaper…

 **Ciel:** Decline the call Sebastian… _(watches as Sebastian stares blankly at the screen)_ Oh for the love of… You swipe the red phone icon… You’d think I was asking you to reenact the resurrection of Christ…

 **Sebastian:** That would be a simpler task than working this infernal contraption. Only mortals would come up with such an infuriating device for entertainment...

_Cut!_

*Scene 11 “Airborne” (In the Plane) Take Nine and a half*

_(Sebastian kills everyone in economy, including the fight attendant and puts on the stewardess’ outfit to bring the wine to first class - … Ciel tells him irately to get his jealousy under control. Goes to check economy to see… piles a steaming ashes…)_

**Ciel:** Sebastian…

_Cut! >_

_*Scene 11 “Airborne” (In the Plane) Take Twenty-Six*_

_**Sebastian _(looking completely unimpressed)_ :** We haven’t all had dinner.. Some of us were busy slaving away over their lover’s favourite meal that they didn’t even eat because apparently it wasn’t as good as the restaurant… You couldn’t even be bothered to say a simple thank you. I go out of my way… Make parfaits in the middle of the night, clean up your messes, wash you, dress you, take care of all your needs, follow every order. I didn’t even want to do this scene, but nooo, no one cares what I want. You don’t appreciate me at all... God knows why I stay…_

__(Ciel offers Elias as a meal- Director is upset because this is the 7th one they’ve had to go through… Sebastian devours him anyway and forgives Ciel.)_ _

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Airplane Restroom) Take Five Hundred and Two*_

__(Ciel’s hands shift from the sink to the soap dispenser as Sebastian nearly pulls out, only to thrust back into him with excessive force. Ciel’s hands slip and his face makes contact with the dispenser hard enough to dislodge it from the wall.)_ _

_**Sebastian _(slowing his pace)_ :** My lord?_

_**Ciel:** No worries, keep going. _(Ciel switches his eyepatch from his right side to his left to hide the damage)__

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Airplane Restroom) Take Five Hundred and Forty Nine*_

_**Ciel _(Getting taken roughly from behind, his head goes through the plaster in the restroom)_ :** Um you're pushing too hard, Seb. It’s going to take a lot of cocking to fill this hole… _(Ciel laughs at his own joke)__

_**Sebastian:** I don’t get it… Shut up, I'm concentrating._

_**Ciel _(Pulling his head out of the hole in the wall, shaking the plaster out of his hair, turning to look at Sebastian)_ :** Then you're not half the demon I thought you were…_

__(Hatefuck acting becomes the real deal)_ _

_**Sebastian _(Thrusting aggressively and pushing Ciel’s head back into the wall)_ :** Pardon me for finding our accommodations less than appealing, my lord._

_**Ciel _(His voice is muffled from having his head in the hole in the wall)_ :** You lived in Hell and after that in a fucking cage in my basement… this is a five-star fucking hotel compared to that. _

_**Sebastian _(Still fucking into Ciel)_ :** It smells terrible. _

_**Ciel:** That's just your upper lip. _

_**Sebastian:** You're asking for it._

_**Ciel:** Begging…_

_**Sebastian:** Slut. _

_**Ciel:** I never pretended otherwise._

_**Sebastian _(Scoffs)_ :** That's a blatant lie. I should wash your dirty mouth out with soap._

_**Ciel _(Pulling his head out of the hole again, looks at Sebastian and rolls his eyes)_ :** Soap dispenser is broken, remember? You can wash it out with your cock. Now shut up and finish fucking me._

_**Sebastian _(Pulling out)_ :** Mm, no, I don't think I will. Christ on the cross! It smells, I'm losing my hard on here._

_**Ciel _(Huffs and sidesteps Sebastian in an effort to leave the restroom)_ :** Fine. I'm outta here._

__(Ciel trips over his pants and breaks through the door only to faceplant with his ass in the air)_ _

_**Sebastian:** Perfect, there's my hard on._

__(Ciel groans, but wiggles his ass.)_ _

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene 11 “Airborne” (Witness Protection Program- Evidence Submitted by Liam Hemsworth) The first and only correspondence, found approximately three weeks ago*_

__Dear Diary,_ _

__Today I found out I wasn’t the first person cast as Elias. Apparently, I’m the eleventh. I’ve been en route towards a secret location for three days. On the plus side, I don’t have to see Miley; but now I’m pretty sure I have a different kind of demon on my ass._ _

__The first day on set was… interesting. The brat I’m supposed to interact with had violent food poisoning, but his on air/off air lover, to whom I will refer to as “S” from here on out, seem to delight in the young man’s illness, as if he’d caused it himself. I only say this because he only vomited in my proximity and always **on** me, never on his lover. After having had to visit “Wardrobe” nine times, the director called it a day and let us go home. I called Chris and asked him if he could get me a part on the next Thor movie and he said “he’d think about it…” - again. _ _

__On the second day, our flight was delayed sixteen times. The funny thing is, a series of issues would just show up out of nowhere; the weather went from clear to snow blizzards in minutes, pilots were asking to land their aircrafts out of nowhere, the moment the plane’s ignition was turned on the fuel gage display indicated that it was empty despite being full. When the delays stopped, the pilots had mysteriously come down with the same case of food poisoning Ciel had contracted the previous day._ _

__When we were finally boarded, S walked by and ‘accidentally’ rubbed up against me and whispered something about **crotch pheasants** (what’s a crotch pheasant?!?) and handed me a tiny comb and proceeded to wish me luck; since then, I’ve had persistent itchiness, a burning that could only be classified as inflammation and emit a putrid and unpleasant odor. I called Miley, and she said she’d experienced the same symptoms after having performed with Robin Thicke and that antibiotics should do the trick. _ _

__Once we landed, I ignored the texts from the little shit who only annoyed “S” to the point of folly, got in a cab and went to the nearest Rite-Aid where I met a bloke by the name of Lucien who told me he could hook me up with the protection I needed. I normally wouldn’t have believed him, but he seemed to know Billy Ray quite well, saying that my future father-in-law owed him a favour, for one he’d done some twenty-five years back._ _

__So that’s all I have for now, I’ll write back again tomorrow, when I get to my destination._ _

__XOXO L-Dawg_ _


	12. Confinement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter is: Always use protection.  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Do You Like It by Our Lady Peace](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iHPlc8D_RI&index=96&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [Drown by Bring Me The Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkV5709EG5M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments & your continued support. Enjoy!

If Sebastian said anything in response to his orders, Ciel had not heard it; all he noticed was his blood pulsing severely behind his ears, the difficulty he was having filling his lungs and the turbulence that rocked and jolted the plane the moment the demon had slammed the door when he had taken his leave. 

He had to clean himself, make himself somewhat presentable if he was going to go back to his seat. Much to his chagrin, there were no hand towels or napkins and even the toilet paper dispenser was empty. Ciel pursed his lips, his annoyance fighting for dominance over the host of other emotions he was repressing. With his options limited, he took off his oversized cardigan, noticing the gashes through the back (an unfortunate casualty of their encounter) and slung it over the sink's edge. He removed his button-down (which was equally abused) and rose to his knees, fire spreading through his spine. With some difficulty, he turned on the tap to soak the bottom of the shirt, then washed his face of barely dried tears, the blood from his neck and what parts of his back he could reach. He took the time between each to wring the shirt and watch the pale red flow down the drain, then repeated the process. His inner thighs stung the most, pain so exquisite it could almost be confused for pleasure the closer he got to his much abused bottom, so left it alone and tried to put it out of his mind. 

Slowly, painfully, he got to his feet, gagging himself beforehand as the demon had suggested, and cried into the shirt he’d shoved into his mouth as he rose. Bending to pull up his pants might have been the most searing physical pain he’d ever experienced (and that included the last twenty-four hours as well as all the dance and pilates classes Lizzie had dragged him to); but the agony had been for naught- his pants were beyond repair, would not tie anymore- he’d have to hold them up. Leaning against the sink to keep them from sliding back down, he pulled on the cardigan, happy at the very least that it was black enough to hide the blood that had spilled and long enough that it would hide the same as it was set in sharp contrast to the pale grey of his trousers. One thing was for certain once he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; he could not go back to First Class looking like this. 

He frowned at his reflection, unaccustomed to what he saw: downturned mouth despite his efforts to keep it expressionless and eyes lit with anger intense enough to distract from the ache behind them. He had told Lizzie that morning that he didn’t make it a habit of regretting things- this however, would be the singular exception of his short life. He’d pushed, and teased and enraged the demon. Could have commanded him to stop, but his pride and his curiosity had both won out against him. What had he done? In the end, what had he gained? He was no closer in understanding his lover's true identity - _Sebastian or Asmodeus?_

He nodded to his reflection, resigned in his course and shuffled a few feet to the toilet, holding on to the wall for support, sat down and took out his phone. 

**Ciel:** _Elias, I’ll be spending the remainder of the flight in the restroom._ He didn’t see it necessary to elaborate, he was sure the man had heard him screaming from First Class. _Once everyone has de-boarded (my lover included), come fetch me. I’ll need some assistance walking. Say nothing of my appearance and you’ll find an additional ten thousand dollars in your bank account._

**Elias:** _Yes, sir._

Ciel rested his head against his hands where he sat and acknowledged the only truth he knew for certain; he’d definitely lied to himself - what he was feeling now wasn’t regret, but heartbreaking remorse.

Sebastian conjured and left a deep marbled onyx walking stick outside the still closed bathroom door for his master, remaining silent and slipping away with the other passengers. He exited the plane before Ciel had even emerged from the restroom, but he did not immediately return to the manor, lingering instead, angry and possessive as he was, to keep his butterfly under careful watch. He growled and hissed as he watched the young man be assisted by his no doubt hired companion, ran his clawed fingers along the side of the building he took cover behind, stone crumbling beneath their pressure. 

He followed his master at a distance, hiding in the shadows like some criminal. And so he felt like one. Guilt, remorse, shame so potent, it was bitter and unpalatable on his tongue, crushing weight in his chest and a war waging in his head. Ciel had deserved such brutality, had ordered it of him and he had only obeyed, taken no real pleasure from it, had for the first time he could recall in as long as his veritably endless memory been revolted by his nature and the fulfillment of such passions. He was not to treat his precious mate in such a way and yet he had. By his master’s order or not, he should not have lost himself like that. He had only wanted to keep care of his butterfly, had been kind, devoted, loyal, and loved him the only way he knew how and Ciel had spurned his affections, made them nothing when the demon felt keenly; they were everything.

At the manor, he was compelled to return to his cage, left alone in the dark damp cell with his regret and his anguished rage at himself, at Ciel, their opposing natures that barred them from one another. Left to try to understand and hoping to somehow be understood. He was sick with it, made weak by a mere mortal that was so much more than human, been so easy to become enamoured with and Sebastian had fallen so swiftly. He’d never been sorry, but he was sorry now as he watched his mate through the eyes of his familiar and yearned to soothe the soft skin that he had bruised and lacerated, pined for the lips and fingertips, breath and blood of his lover. For how long would he be denied? Would Ciel even allow him to beg his forgiveness? 

Ciel made it home in an inordinate amount of time, having hired Elias to drive him to the Estate in a rented Lincoln MKZ. More stops than necessary were made along the way; one at the nearest CVS Pharmacy for pain meds, bandages and polysporin, another at Harry Rosen’s to replace his tarnished clothing, eleven stops by the side of the road so that Ciel could just sit there without his backside being jostled by every pothole and dip taxpayer money _wasn’t_ fixing, twice for gas, and the last time for the driver to eat something while the passenger had no appetite of his own. 

Once home, he was helped up the front steps and paid the blond for his services as soon as his luggage was brought to the door. He watched the Lincoln drive away, taking a tremulous breath as he searched for his keys, leaning heavily against the cane that had been left near the airplane’s restroom door, no doubt by the servant. He wondered how long it had taken _Sebastian? Asmodeus?_ to get to Phantomhive from the airport; and he was certainly _here_ , Ciel could feel the faint, tenuous pull of their bond. It wasn’t the only thing he felt; the closer he got to his home, the more his guilt nagged and ate at him like a plague consuming its host from the inside out. Why had he issued those last orders? He’d needed Sebastian, but had sent him away instead, and to his cage of all places. He’d been enraged; they both had- but unlike the demon, his rage had given way to hurt and humiliation. Even though he’d demanded to be defiled, he’d secretly hoped that the servant’s true nature was closer to that of Sebastian rather than Asmodeus. 

When he finally found his key, he inserted it clumsily into the lock and the ornate door was flung back abruptly, him along with it; he lost his balance and stumbled into his mother’s outstretched arms. As she caught and steadied him, he was overwhelmed by the the sharp contrast between this welcome and the previous one he’d gotten from Vincent.

“Ciel! I knew you’d come! Lemme look at you,” Rachel held her son at arm’s length and critically examined every navy strand of hair out of place, the slight slouch in his posture and how he was blushing furiously at his own _grand entrance_. She watched as he averted his gaze, but not before she caught a glimpse of his thousand mile stare; a sight she knew too well having been married to his father for twenty years. Something weighed heavily on Ciel’s mind, and he would not so much as breathe a word of it, would bear the Sisyphean task he’d been given on his own. 

She was nearly a head shorter than her son, but for what she lacked in height, the widow Phantomhive more than made up for in her presence; she narrowed her eyes, grabbed his face firmly, and forced him to look at her, pronouncing every syllable with controlled calm, “What the hell happened to you?” 

“It’s nothing Mom, honestly,” he said awkwardly as his mother’s hand grasped near the corners of his mouth. She arched a brow, disquiet and skepticism lurking in her cobalt-coloured eyes. He shook his head minutely and when she let go, he limped past her, his cane thumping against the lacquered floor at odds with his footfalls as he nodded to the hired help who grabbed his bags and shut the door behind them. 

“Don’t _honestly_ me, Ciel Phantomhive,” she began as she followed her son, trying to appraise his faltering step and coming up with a variety of ways he might have sustained such an injury, “I know the moment you use that word that you’re hiding something from me.” She took advantage of his sluggishness and rounded on him, catching the look of grief he had wanted to conceal from her. She knew her son well enough not to attribute it to his father’s recent passing, and was glad that his cousin would soon arrive to give him at least _someone_ in which he might confide. 

“Fine.” He pursed his lips, trying to stand a little taller but blanched at the achy burn that radiated from the center of his back; his mother’s eyes softened at his obvious discomfort and her hands hovered over him wanting to help ease him, “I… slipped… during my last assignment and I think I herniated a disc; don’t worry about it.” 

“Uh-huh,” Rachel’s tone was disbelieving, but she took her only son’s elbow and guided him lovingly to the kitchen, leaving him to lean against the large marble island. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ciel frowned as his mother put a plate of shortbread cookies before him.

“Oh, nothing,” she said airily, waving a hand at the butler who’d just come into the room, dismissing his services for the moment as she turned on the kettle. “You know the servant could have fixed that for you if you’d have asked, you stubborn little thing.” 

Ciel opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. There was really no point in lying about it or denying it, “I know.” 

“Speaking of which, where _is_ Sebastian?” She filled two infusers with a rose petal and camomile blend, hoping they would help soothe Ciel’s nerves, then poured boiling water into two cups. She watched as her son dipped his infuser once, twice, then wafted the floral sweetness to his nose, inhaling deeply, eyes closed. 

“In his cage,” Ciel’s replied, his voice seeming almost disembodied and forlorn. His response was more telling than he had wanted it to be. 

His mother pushed the honey and milk towards him, “Hmm…” 

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he asked, pulling a face. His mother was doing it again, analyzing every word he said, judging the tone and pitch of his voice, decoding his reactions or lack thereof. 

She dunked a cookie in her tea and tried to keep her tone matter of fact. “Oh, nothing. I’m surprised, is all. I assumed…” 

“Assumed _what_?” he asked sharply. 

“I just thought you’d be pleased having him by your side.” She bit her lip, considering her next words since it was no secret that Ciel preferred men; he’d told them over Skype on Father’s Day at the age of fifteen. It had been no shock to Rachel of course, but Vincent took it as quite the blow, seeing it as a ruse at first; he’d thought their son was just trying to get out of his dynastic responsibilities. _He’s just saying that because he thinks that since the Vatican frowns upon homosexuality, they’ll dismiss him_ , _He’s chosen to be a homosexual so that he won’t have to sire any children to follow in his footsteps_. Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose irritably, not wanting _this_ to be what she remembered about her late husband then gave her son a half smile, “I’m sure he’s selected a… suitable appearance that would appeal to your tastes.” 

“Subtle, Mom.” Ciel looked away, removing the infuser from his cup and placing it on a small saucer. “Why would you even assume that?” 

“Mother’s intuition dear,” she said, taking a seat next to where he stood and put her hand over his. “It’s okay, if you want to let him ou-”

“Just drop it,” Ciel interrupted, then segued into another topic before she could persist. “How’s Aunt Angelina doing? Has she found a replacement for her butler yet?” His mother didn’t buy it, but respected his need for privacy and dove into the gossip about Angelina’s minor trials and tribulations.

***

Sebastian was pacing in the cramped and musty space of his cell, restless and filled with turbulence, at war with his own existence. It had been hours already. How long would his master force him to remain confined? Would Ciel now change his mind and remove his freedom permanently like his father and his father’s father before him? Would he be forgiven? Could he?

Did he deserve to be? What right did he, a devil, a fallen angel and mortal sin, have to ask for absolution? 

Still, he longed for it. Mere hours and it was eternity, aching, lonely and regrettable, the quiet seeming too loud and he could not stop the throb of his heart beating even when he’d forced it still. Perhaps he was imagining it or perhaps he was being haunted by the echo of his mate’s instead. Either way, it was all he could hear, that heady pulse, that rhythm that never failed to move him. All he could do was curse himself for losing his head, for letting his jealous pride get away from him; he’d been a fool. And now because he had been made weak, vowed his loyalty and devotion to the most alluring and infuriating being he’d ever met, he found he was desperate to redeem himself. He must because if he would never be allowed to feel his mate’s skin and taste his soul again, he would surely die of heartache, a man-made plague for mortals, but he had no doubt that he would be inflicted and driven mad with it and what profound madness it would be for a creature like himself.

He sent his familiar in his stead as he had when Ciel had been but a child, watched over him as he had then, saw him with his mother, saw her knowing gaze and the fierceness behind it, the same fierceness that lived inside her son, gifted to him in his blood. He watched through raven’s eyes how his master moved with stiffness, pained, but hiding it well as he always did and haunted. Beautiful even then, bitter and shaded as he was in his disquiet. Sebastian knew he’d put more doubt in him, but was at a loss to thus assure him. He hadn’t really been in the wrong and yet he had been. He’d hurt his butterfly, had known deep down he would and he should have resisted, restrained himself better, but everything with his mate was so powerful, so consuming and so too had he felt the sharp piercing of his own hurt and coupled with tenacious avaricious intent; he’d easily convinced himself he’d acted accordingly. So he had, but he’d been wrong. So wrong... Perhaps like he had when Ciel was just a child he would court him with gifts and wonders and beg his reconciliation.

***

As the afternoon wore on, Ciel and his mother discussed the funeral that would be taking place in two days time, reviewing the guest list, making sure they hadn’t forgotten anyone. It was meant to be a small affair; Vincent had been a private man and Ciel was sure that if it were up to his father, there would have been no gathering at all.

The young man listened to his mother prattle on about the various art pieces she had acquired as part of the family’s cover as esoteric art dealers; specifically, the Rubens [ Massacre of the Innocents](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6f/Peter_Paul_Rubens_Massacre_of_the_Innocents.jpg/1024px-Peter_Paul_Rubens_Massacre_of_the_Innocents.jpg) she’d gotten her hands on and longed to keep for herself, having coveted the masterpiece since her adolescence. 

“Wouldn’t it look lovely in our sitting room, Ciel?”

“You want a painting of a bunch of people getting slaughtered in the room where we take our morning tea?” He stared at her endearingly, the slightest of frowns contracting her brow as she gave a shrug or two. He pursed his lips, holding his laughter back by a hair, but the joy clawed its way up his chest through the anguish and guilt until he laughed; filling the room with a hearty, genuine chortle, “Let it never be said that I am not your son; I think it’s a brilliant idea! We might as well hang it there until it needs to be delivered to the highest bidder.” 

They continued speaking in this fashion, light and airy, with the most serious topic being his lack of appetite when they were seated for dinner. He picked at his salad, noticing as he did so, that small spotted patches had appeared on the back of his hands and arms, running beneath his rolled up sleeves. _A heat rash_ , he told himself; and so he began drinking water, draining a pitcher by the time the butler served the second course and was still unable to quench his thirst. At first, he’d thought his dehydration was merely a result of exhaustion, but by the time the main course had been brought to the table, he had begun sweating, had to use his napkin to wipe his face and blot his neck each time his mother turned her head, or looked down at her plate. 

He excused himself from the table abruptly, blaming his long trip for his exhaustion, telling Rachel he would go lie down for an hour before they went over Vincent’s eulogy. Getting up so quickly had not done him any favours, especially in this condition. He gripped the table, waiting for his equilibrium to return and held a hand up to indicate to his mother that he was alright. He moved slowly, trying his best to conceal how torturous it was to put one foot in front of the other as he blinked away a steady stream of sweat dripping from his brow. 

By the time he made it to the grand foyer on the way to his room, there was a familiar knock at the door - one heavy knock and two quick raps, the pattern repeated twice to mimic a heartbeat- Lizzie’s signature knock. Ciel cringed in spite of himself and told the butler who was coming to answer it to tend to his mother instead while he saw to their new arrival.

Lizzie blinked once, twice before she launched herself at Ciel. “Thank goodness you decided to come. I was absolutely dreading having to attend without you,” she said as she gave him a squeeze, letting him go abruptly when he winced and stiffened with obvious discomfort. 

She pulled away and looked at him, brow furrowed with concern as her cornflower blue eyes searched him over, picking up the flush on his pallid face and on his neck, were those… Bruises? At any rate, he didn’t look well at all. “Ciel, what… Are you alright?” she asked softly, reaching to press the back of her hand to his overheated and clammy forehead.

“No… thank god you’re here. Help me to my room before Mom comes out,” he said, his plea fierce and frenzied despite his weak inflection. It’s a curious thing to feel vulnerable. Ciel remembered many times as a child tripping and scraping his knees on the pavement and his mother (on Vincent’s insistence) would not react or bat an eye, hoping to make him self-reliant and strong, but if Lizzie was around (and she usually was), she’d instantly become hysterical, cried and made a fuss, which in turn brought on his own pitiful sobs. Her presence at Phantomhive at that very moment had the same effect, bestirred his worry and amplified it when he caught his distress reflected in her stricken expression.

Lizzie slipped an arm around him supportively and assisted him up the stairs and to his room, looking about to be sure they had privacy. “What happened? Where’s Sebastian?” she questioned in a hushed tone, closing his bedroom door behind them before she turned to help him get changed. She bit her lip as she got a better look at the marks that had previously been obscured by his collar and clothing. They looked inflamed. Painfully reddened, bruised, and angry, and she was certain now that they were bites, scratches and fingerprints impressed upon his milky skin. She’d never seen anything quite like it. “Ciel.. Did...” she paused, wetting her lips and resolving to voice her suspicion though she desperately hoped she was wrong, “Did Sebastian do this?”

“I… I asked...” What could he tell her? He was sure he didn’t have enough time to explain things enough to do them justice. “Go to the ensuite, get the Cephalexin,” he instructed, his jaw clenched as he leaned over the bed topless, fisting the sheets, “And fill a needle, eight milliliters, immunoglobulin.” Ciel didn’t know whether to treat his apparent infection as a human bacterial one or the way doctors treated animalistic rabies-type infections. He heard Lizzie rush out of the room and he swallowed painfully, his throat desiccated, then swollen and constricted. Or was this an allergic reaction? “Bring… EpiPen,” he managed to wheeze before his hands gave out from under him and he fell onto the bed, barely conscious. His thoughts were everywhere; he couldn’t focus as his mind clouded over with fever.

Lizzie did as Ciel ordered, retrieved the required medications, carefully administered them to her half conscious cousin while she tried to understand how he’d become so sick. She’d only just talked to him on the phone the day before and he’d seemed just fine then. Could it have happened since then, in so little time? And he’d implied that yes, Sebastian had been the one to mark him up so savagely, but he’d also said that he had been the one to request it of the other man, but of that were true then where was Sebastian? She was at a loss. 

She watched him carefully, checked his temperature repeatedly and worried her lip until it was tender and sore. His fever wasn’t abating and if anything, he seemed to be getting worse. He was barely coherent, spouting all kinds of strange things that she could scarcely piece together and she was truly becoming afraid for him. “Ciel, I think we should call an ambulance or at least the doctor. I don’t think the medicine is working,” she suggested in a soft tone, brushing his sweat dampened hair away from his brow tentatively. 

It definitely hadn’t been an allergic reaction; adding to the sensation of being flayed alive, burned inside and out was the unnecessary adrenaline rush of the Epi pen. His heart beat so hard, so fast against his ribs, he was certain it could be both seen and heard; he had to make an effort to speak over the loud static whiteness of it so that he could be heard by whoever was in his room. One moment it was Vincent with his _I told you so’s_ , then Beelzebub who taunted him, invited him for more games... He managed somehow to hear Lizzie’s soothing worried voice as though she spoke through a thick fog, “No! No doctor! No hospital! No Sebastian!” At this point he longed for unconsciousness, respite from the hyperventilation and battered, broken pants, the silencing of his mind and a short reprieve from the pain. 

The blonde young woman pursed her lips in frustration. “Fine… I’m just going to get some cloths and ice water. We have to get your fever down otherwise I’m taking you to the hospital whether you want to or not,” she said, though she doubted he heard her through his mumbled gibberish. She hurried from the room to do as she’d said, but bumped into her aunt on the way to the kitchens. 

Ciel’s mother steadied her niece when the young woman very nearly crashed right into her and would have sent them both for a nasty tumble if she hadn’t managed to catch the girl. She looked concerned as she held Lizzie’s upper arms and asked, “Lizzie, you look positively frantic. What’s happened? It’s Ciel isn’t it?”

Lizzie couldn’t lie to her aunt when Rachel was clearly as concerned as she was about Ciel. “He’s… He’s sick. He has such a high fever. He refuses to see a doctor or go to the hospital even though the medicine he had me give him hasn’t done a single thing to help him. He’s just getting worse and worse. I was just.. I was going to get some ice water and cloths to help cool him down.”

Rachel nodded kindly at her niece. “That’s a good idea. If you don’t mind sitting with him a while longer, I’ll make some calls. Don’t worry sweetheart, he’ll be right as rain soon,” she assured, knowing in the depths of her eyes as she lead the way to the kitchens, assisted Lizzie with the items she required and sent the girl back upstairs to attend to her son while she made her way down to the basement of the manor where she knew the demon was housed.

***

The whispering of pacing steps halted as Sebastian heard the clang of metal as the lock was disengaged at the top of the staircase and the heavy door pulled open with some effort on the individual’s part. His nostrils flared and feline eyes narrowed as the subtle sweetness of Rachel’s perfume preceded her down the stone steps.

He could feel the echo of distress through his contract with his master, but Ciel was stubbornly refusing to call for him though he likely needed him. He could feel the ache and burn in their bond, infected as it had become by the bitterness that had been bred between them and he wasn’t sure how it might be affecting his mate though he was certain that the distress he could feel was at least in part caused by the discourse in the bond connecting them to one another. He couldn’t have known how severely it was damaging his mate, having never experienced any such thing before and never having known anyone to bond with a human mate before having changed them to something less mortal. 

He ran a taloned hand through his inky hair and watched as the last lady of Phantomhive came to stand before his cage, looking through the bars that held him captive as surely as her son did without fear. Sebastian was stricken by her fearlessness, the righteousness in her that Ciel had so obviously inherited. “My Lady, to what do I owe this honour?” he asked, sure already that she was there to perhaps scold him, condemn him or to plead with him again. How was he to know when his mind was in such a muddle and he was engaged in a war with himself as well as his lover?

Unblinking and unintimidated, Rachel took in the demon’s appearance, vastly different than the one her late husband had conjured, contrasted in every way possible: youthful, sensual and enticing and dangerously powerful. “You know damn well why I’m down here. You _said_ you would watch over him. You gave your _word_. So why is it that my son has returned from his last assignment looking as though he’s been hobbled? And why is he dying of something resembling consumption in his chambers as we speak?”

The demon snorted and bared his teeth, hissing between them defensively. "By his own damned fault. I have kept my word," he paused as the static in his blood receded, her words further sinking in, tendrils of concern forcing themselves between the defensive indignation and soreness of his own hurt, "What do you mean dying? What's happened?" Surely his injuries had not been so severe that Ciel was dying, but if he was…

Rachel rushed the cage and aggressively fastened her hands to the bars; her anger turned inwards and she seethed menacingly most unlike herself, “Don’t you dare feign innocence in this, Sebastian. I know my son well enough to know he had a part to play in this, but he didn’t do so alone.” She’d wrongly put her faith in a soulless creation to keep her son safe and now Ciel was paying for it.

Sebastian snarled and paced away from the bars, not at all pleased by the woman's accusatory tone and words. As if he didn't already know that the current infection in their bond could have been prevented had he refused to follow Ciel's order... Wait... Was that what she meant? Was the infection in the bond affecting the young man fatally? For the demon, it ached, seared and throbbed, but there was no outward symptoms to accompany it aside the agitation and growing anguish. 

"He is the one that ordered me away. I can only see so much from this cage when he refuses me freedom. Even my companion is unable to see through walls, my lady and you well know how stubborn our favourite little butterfly is. He refuses to call for me, though I could surely cure his illness," he answered, attempting to remain aloof as his mind raced through the winding maze of his thoughts, connections and conclusions swiftly coming to light. Ciel was suffering because their bond was sick with betrayal.

Though minutely relieved by the demon’s confidence in his ability to help her son, Rachel could not abandon the anger her worry had inspired, “Let me make one thing clear, Sebastian; my son is not your _butterfly_ , is not your plaything, and he is most definitely not _yours_. He is your master, and you’ve shown yourself to be a most unworthy servant.” She opened the cage with ease and without key; now that her son was in too incoherent a state to refuse the help, the demon’s temporary freedom could be granted. “That changes tonight, do you understand? You must vow to never abandon your covenant with Ciel, I don’t care how much it hurts you, I don’t care if it _kills_ you.”

Sebastian growled lowly in warning, stepping forward as Rachel opened the cage. “He _is_ mine; I’ve no intention of abandoning him,” he said as he slipped passed the threshold of his cell, sanguine, slitted eyes narrowed on the woman dangerously. Ciel had compelled him to his prison and he’d been stayed by the young man’s petulant displeasure; the fact that he was now freed without argument could only mean that his mate was unable to maintain his order. The realization only made him more desperate to see Ciel, to soothe him. And hadn’t he been issued orders to disobey when necessary? Now was as good a time as any to test whether or not those orders held true.

He moved passed Rachel with inhuman swiftness, left her behind in the dank dungeon without another word or a second glance. It hardly mattered if she believed his word or not; he’d not been dishonest. He was silent through the halls and on the stairs, as he sought out his mate, let himself in and scented the bitter poison that seeped through their bond and through his lover’s blood. 

Lizzie had fallen asleep, head cradled in the nest of her arms on the edge of Ciel’s bed while she slouched in a chair next to it. Sebastian removed her carefully, from Ciel’s bed, from the chair and from the room altogether. Better she was away lest she wake and see what he would have to do in order to remove the venom from his mate. He doubted Ciel was going to cooperate, fevered as he was. He returned to the bedside immediately after he had deposited the girl in a guest room and hovered over Ciel. He reached out tentatively, brushed his long fingers through the sweaty strands of the young man’s hair and felt the heat of his fever. _What have I done to you?_ “Butterfly, can you hear me?” he asked quietly, leaning further in, searching the flushed and pained face of his love for any signs of recognition. 

Ciel heard the demon’s voice, a clear contrast set against the other dozen voices that had joined the righteous cacophony in his bedroom. He recoiled from the soothing touch, turned his face away from the voice and reengaged in one of the many conversations going on around him.

“No. Not a butterfly. Not anymore,” he told someone, half sitting up and staring blankly at the foot of the bed; the words were torture on his tongue. “Can’t be a butterfly without wings. A bug, less than a bug. _Nothing._ Asmodeus tore them off, plucked them one by one," he mumbled to someone else, as though trying to explain something incredibly simple to an idiot. “Check his hands, they are stained with the powdery blue residue of their scales, unless the devil has already licked them clean with his forked tongue.” He laughed then choked on a sob, letting himself fall back into the pillows and turned away from the direction where comfort seemed to be spilling.

“Even though you asked to be made nothing my love, you would voice such accusations… I warned you, but you… It hardly matters now does it? Of course it is my fault; guilty by my very nature. Our bond has been infected by our mutual distrust. I had not considered how something like this might affect a mortal soul. I must draw the poison out, so you must lay still,” Sebastian said, voice evening out and low as he tried to direct the young man into a reclining pose on the mattress with some difficulty. Ciel was not at all in the mood to cooperate with the demon. A growl rumbled in his chest as he caught and held his mate’s delicate wrists in a firm grip. “Be still… Please sweetling.”

“Stop it! Don’t draw it out, let it take over!” Ciel pleaded with the shadows in his room looming over him. Which one was talking? Were they talking in unison? The poison took root in his heart and spread through his blood, crawling through his veins sluggishly and thickening. So heavy. He tried to reach out to them, but was being pinned. 

“It hurts,” he whimpered, “It hurts so much.” He trembled, felt small and insignificant under the weight of his limbs, the barest hint of agony which had been his constant companion since the restroom aboard the flight making itself known, humiliating, and demeaning. The physical pain flared white hot, but was minor, almost non-existent as compared to the doubt and longing. And they laughed; all of them, Vincent most of all, that he’d been taken in by the demon, ensnared. 

“It hurts,” he repeated again in a whisper that echoed, “Let it spread, I just want it to end.” The largest of shadows descended upon him, and he mouthed against the cool skin, sweet against his lips, “Better to be consumed by poison than unrequited love.”

“How can it be reciprocated if you never believe it to be my love? I am bound to my word and still you deny me. I can’t leave you this way; you would surely fade from this existence. It would be excruciating and I would go mad with grief. Careless butterfly that cares too much. You must learn to be honest in your soul sweetling. Don’t resist love, you’ll only hurt yourself further,” Sebastian murmured though he doubted much of what he’d said was being comprehended by his mate. He crawled over Ciel, held his wrists pinned between the beats of their hearts and his wings whispered from his skin with little sound, balancing him and giving him further leverage over the squirming young man. His contracted hand that had become irritated and veined with black rose to cup Ciel’s chin, holding him still and using the grip to tilt his head back. 

He leaned in, his chilled lips brushing over the fevered heat of Ciel’s, closed his eyes and breathed in then out, in again, opened them and stared into the unseeing fogginess of forlorn midnight sapphire that belonged to his mate. “ _Forgive me,_ ” the Aramaic caught on his breath and tumbled from between his lips, over Ciel’s of its own accord, but it was probably the most sincere he’d ever made an apology, knowing that he was about to cause his lover further discomfort. He would take that pain away right after, but it would still be felt until he had siphoned out all of the venomous poison from his mate’s body. He sealed his lips over Ciel’s and closed his eyes again, the same sooty, seeking black smoke from before curling up his throat and from his tongue to snake its way down his lover’s and drawn the poison out slowly, achingly, coaxing it from its painful and suffocating hold on his mate, like stripping Ivy from stone; he had to be thorough, careful, and conscious, vigilant so that he would not leave any remnant behind to fester and infirm his master again. 

The tears that pricked behind Ciel’s eyelids were sharp and savage and could no longer be held back despite his insistence that they should remain concealed. Unlike those he’d spilled on the plane, these tears were deeply seated in indignant chagrin and no amount of pressing his eyes shut could stop their release.

“Stop. Please stop,” he lamented weakly. Whoever, _whatever_ was siphoning the sickness from his body could not have done it more painfully, more tragically; it was too close to a kiss, silky lips caressing and prying his own open, hot breath filling his mouth and lungs and then robbing him of his own. 

_Stop._ Without the burning, stabbing, throbbing ache, what would distract from the emptiness? From feeling meaningless? From being a pawn to everyone, a tool for his employer, a disappointment to his family and a meal for his lover. Could they not relieve him of _that_ bitterness and anguish instead? No pain this immense could be destroyed; it would have to be transferred and he was egotistical enough to want to give it away to whichever poor sap had been stupid enough to try to help him, wretched as he was. He felt the last of the poison leave his body and fought back, pushing his mouth hard against his liberator’s and buried his tongue into the heat, capturing the familiar sweetness on his tastebuds, igniting a new smoldering sensation and hunger. 

Sebastian swallowed the anguished infection, bitter and writhing, felt it heavy and aching in his core where it spread with spidery tendrils of putrid ink through his veins and stained his skin, searing and pulsing with all the brutal mistrust and doubt his mate had harboured. Soul-poisoning and destructive… Even as Ciel began to hungrily devour his mouth, seeking the comfort he’d refused to admit had always been desired from perhaps forever. The loneliness in it was so desperate, so greedy, childish almost in its eagerness, consuming, but fragile. 

And Sebastian was holding him, unnoticed, clawed fingers blackened and spasming against the boy’s skin while human features flickered between mortal and not while the demon’s body tried to both digest and purge the unpalatable poison he’d withdrawn from his lover. He did not regret sparing his mate the agony even as it thrashed, broke apart and shattered, burrowing its jagged shards into his very existence; he would be proud to bare the scars left behind, like a promise, another contract embedded in the deepest parts of his being. He would be rewritten, but he found he preferred the ending of this story better.

He broke the kiss carefully, gently, tenderly withdrawing his mouth from his mate’s, pressing kisses over his cheeks, temples, eyelids and forehead as he spoke. “No more of that now butterfly. Not until you know me for what I’ve become, not what I was. Sleep now my love; when you wake, you will be well again.” He kept holding him, pulled him in and cradled him to his breast where his heart beat a painful slow rhythm and the first strained notes of his lullaby echoed. Dark feathers closed in around them protectively and as the last rays of starlight were snuffed out by the inky plumes, Ciel slept, found solace and peace in the arms of the fallen. And oh how Sebastian fell...

Chapter 12 Blooper Reel

*Scene twelve “Confinement” (Airplane washroom) Take two*

_(Sebastian conjured up a large black magician’s top hat and begins pulling out items to leave in front of the bathroom door for Ciel, a dark smile on his lips. There is Professor Xavier’s wheelchair, crutches, walking stick, chair cushions, dogsled… with dogs attached, hot pink, motorized barbie jeep with butterfly bobble on the antenna, skateboard, segway, unicycle, parachute, big wheel equipped with tassels on the handlebars, Roman chariot pulled by miniature pony (which begins eating the tassels), chocobo, rooster, Hodor (on loan from beyond the wall), a Nimbus 400 B.C., hoverboard (from back to the future), pogo-stilts, a pair of Sketchers Heely’s in butterfly blue, sleigh of St. Nicolas equipped with reindeer, a whole handful of helium balloons, a slip ‘n’ slide, Mary Poppins’ umbrella, a bag floo powder, and a portkey shaped in an exact replica of Sebastian’s penis. When Ciel emerges from the bathroom, all the items have been taken by the other passengers, leaving only the unicycle and the penis portkey which he refuses to handle with his bare hands and instead offers the fangirls that paid to be on the plane a chance to hold it which in turn transports all of them to the Phantomhive mansion.)_

_**Rachel:** Who in the bloody hell are all these squealing girls? And where in hell did they come from?_

_**Sebastian _(currently warding off said horde of girls)_ :** I can assure you they are not from hell. This is your son’s doing. I am being sexually harassed._

_**Rachel:** I see… Well I think we should exact some revenge on him. This is simply too much._

_**Sebastian _(interested)_ :** What did you have in mind?_

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene twelve “Confinement” (Phantomhive Estate, Front Foyer) Take six*_

_**Rachel:** Don’t _honestly_ me, Ciel Phantomhive. _(She begins as she follows Ciel, appraising his limp, curiously)_ , Is it hemorrhoids, dear? I hear gay men often get those after..._

_**Ciel _(eyes widening, mouth agape)_ :** Mom!_

_**Rachel:** Or perhaps you’ve contracted methicillin-resistant _Staphylococcus aureus_? Suffered anal fissures? Malignant tumours leading to anal cancer?_

_**Ciel:** How do you even know all this? _

_**Rachel**_ **(refusing to make eye contact with Ciel):** I had a near impossible chat with that mewling codpiece, Siri on _The Google_. Excuse me, but you sent a pack of fangirls here, made them touch _my_ penis after I left it specifically for _you_ , didn’t even have the common courtesy to touch it _yourself_! 

**Ciel:** What the fuck? Sebastian, get out of my mother! 

**Sebastian _(as Rachel)_ :** That’s what she said. 

Cut

_(Sebastian locked himself into his cage to escape any wayward mobs of fangirls and was pacing in the cramped and musty space of his cell. He trips, sending himself flailing and gets his head stuck between the bars. Suddenly the door above is heard opening, followed by shrieking and a flood of fangirls comes careening down the stairs. Sebastian struggles to free himself and cannot.)_

**Sebastian:** Are you there God, it’s me, Asmodeus… I know it’s been a long time, but I could really use some help here…

**God _(in the voice of Sean Connery)_ :** Bitcsh better have my money…

**Sebastian:** I’m marrying rich.

_(God sends out a request for Hunger Games sponsor parachutes and Sebastian receives a number of them from his siblings, as well as Ciel. He receives a block of butter, a half empty bottle of lubricant, a soup spoon, an Ipod (which he does not know how to navigate), a s’mores scented candle, a sham-wow and a slap-chop, a miniature nail file, and from Ciel, a “Hang in there kitty” poster.)_

**Sebastian _(looking at the poster as the fangirls are charging down the stairs)_ :** It should assure me, but even this cannot console me. 

_(The fangirls have reached the bottom of the stairs and the screams have become a deafening cacophony. He is only allowed a few grateful moments as they fight amongst themselves in which he desperately begins to pray.)_

**Sebastian _(desperately)_ :** Father please, I’m sorry… If this is what I said about mother, I didn’t mean it.

**God:** …

_Cut!_

*Scene twelve “Confinement” (Phantomhive Estate, Front Foyer) Take twelve*

_(Ciel limps to the grand foyer on the way to his room and hears his name called out from behind the doors leading to the outside)_

**Lizzie:** Ciel? _(she knocks five times quickly to a familiar tune)_ Do you wanna build a snowman? 

**Ciel _(breaks from his character’s limp and runs to the door to start singing with Lizzie)_ :** Come on let’s go and play… I never see you anymore… Come out the door…

**Sebastian _(interrupts the duet)_ :** Why do we never get to listen to my music, my lord… _(starts singing[ Hooked on a Feeling ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bo-qweh7nbQ) while demons join him in the background to harmonize in church choir style)_

_(With the help of Soma, Ciel sets up a booth with Sebastian merchandise and a queuing line)_

**Ciel _(with a megaphone)_ :** Release the hounds! (Soma opens the doors and a pack of fangirls come flooding through, screaming and throwing money at Ciel, led by Grell)

**Sebastian:** Oh hell no, not again! This wasn’t in the contract.

_Cut!_

 

*Scene twelve “Confinement” (Phantomhive Estate, Ciel’s Bedroom) Take fifteen*

_(Ciel is barely coherent, spouting all kinds of strange things that Lizzie can scarcely piece together)_

**Ciel _(singing off-key)_ :** Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…

**Lizzie:** What the…

**Ciel:** You’ve been Rick-rolled bitch! Eighties ballads are the best… don’t tell Sebastian I said that… Did you know I love black hair and long lashes? I don’t find you attractive in the least, Lizzie- that’s because I’m into cocks. Hey… Hey Lizzie… Lizzie guess what? _(motions for her to come closer and stage whispers in her ear)_ I put one in my mouth. 

_Cut!_

*Scene twelve “Confinement” (Phantomhive Estate, Ciel’s Bedroom) Take twenty-one*

**Sebastian:** Be still… Please sweetling.

**Ciel:** That better be an offer for a blowjob.

**Sebastian _(already on his knees)_ :** You read my mind bocchan…

**Director:** For fuck’s sake, again? _Cut!_


	13. Apparition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moral of the Chapter is: If you can't keep it in your pants, keep it in the family.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian~ [ I Was a Fool by Tegan and Sara](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZHGeg_0Rlo&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=12)  
> Ciel~  Nothing Compares to You Cover by Chris Cornell 

“According to St. Thomas Aquinas, prior to humans being born, their souls can be…”

_Tap, tap, tap_

Catholic Mysticism one-oh-one. A usually interesting class was being made unbearable by the discomfort of the stiff rickety oak desks and the heat of the sun absorbed by the black polyester blazer and charcoal pants they had to wear as part of their school uniforms. Ciel fanned himself with one hand, while the fingers of the other tried to loosen the tight collar. So many of them were training to be priests (ten out of twelve in his class), that they had mandated the clergy collars as part of the attire. The heat also wrecked havoc on his sight, creating a haze that shimmered and distorted the metallic and crystal pieces used to adorn the statues of St. Teresa of Avila, St. Sebastian, and St. Padre Pio, giving their faces sinisterly ecstatic expressions. And the swelter did nothing for the smell for the stale, musty centuries old building presently bathing in the generic altar blend the professor had put in the incense burner. 

“... but it is a rare occurrence.” 

He placed a fist against his mouth to suppress a yawn that had irresistibly dragged itself out the moment he’d seen Soma do it from across the aisle. Ciel barely registered someone sighing and clicking their tongue as he himself let out a yelp when a wooden ruler made sharp contact with his knuckles. He breathed deeply through his nose, closed his eyes and forced his offended hand to remain still on the desk, because that was what was expected after discipline. 

“Mister Paradis, you might want to listen, this might prove to be important one day.” 

“Sorry, Professor,” he mumbled, not sorry at all. Soma smiled brightly at him from across the aisle once the disciplinarian had walked passed while Ciel glared at both of them. Something about the desirable way the professor’s academic regalia hung on his body or his raven’s hair being tapered at the nape of his neck with the long fringes at the front... it didn’t seem to suit such an institution, it was too… 

_Tap, tap, tap_

Ciel shook his head, _Focus,_ he reminded himself. 

“And the Vatican has some documented evidence of such bonds being formed…” The professor placed a reproduction of a painting on the overhead projector that showed a gentle-seeming angel cradling the swooning figure of a weather-beaten man. “This religious canvas entitled _**[Saint Francis of Assisi in Ecstasy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Francis_of_Assisi_in_Ecstasy_\(Caravaggio\)#/media/File:Saint_Francis_of_Assisi_in_Ecstasy-Caravaggio_\(c.1595\).jpg)**_ painted by Caravaggio is said to…” 

_Tap, tap, tap_

_Damn that racket! I can’t concentrate!_ Ciel crumpled the piece of paper on which he’d been taking notes and started anew, having missed most of what the professor’s low sultry voice had explained before changing the image again. 

“Whereas in _**[St. Francis Supported by an Angel](http://www.mfa.org/collections/object/st-francis-supported-by-an-angel-540386)**_ by Gentileschi, we see a very different angel holding the saint. According to the Vatican, both are false accounts, owing to the fact that the rumour states the padre bonded to the seraph Jehoel during the ecstasy of his first stigmata. If this is the case, the angel is misrepresented, missing four of the six wings such a celestial being would…”

_Tap, tap, tap_

That was enough. Ciel leaped out of his seat and turned sharply towards the back of the class trying to identify the source of the infernal sound. Why should he get rapped on the knuckles for yawning when an individual who consistently tapped their pencil or something on their desk escaped reprimand entirely! Liable to snap at just about anyone, he opened his mouth to say something, but it was to an empty audience. He blinked and wiped the sweat from his lashes with the back of his hand, _knowing_ that there should be at least seven students seated behind him. He turned to his right to confirm with Soma, but he too had vanished from the classroom; in fact, everyone but the professor had gone. The lecture continued uninterrupted as though the the professor were still speaking to a full class, his back turned to Ciel as he tapped the ruler against a nearby desk. 

“The bond between angel and human, which often predates the birth of the soul can become irritated to the point of death if…” 

_Scratch, scratch, scratch_

Wait, what happened to the tapping? Ciel slammed his fist on the desk, irritated by the sound of _scratching_ against glass. The sound was definitely coming from the ruler, but against a desk, it should make a deeper, steadier sound, not the delicate, dragging sound it was making. He strode to the professor, took hold of the back of his robe, ready to demand some kind of explanation when he found himself sitting upright in his bed gripping his sheets. 

_scratch, scratch, scratch_

“Oh my fucking god, that’s annoying,” Ciel grumbled, looking over his shoulder so he could tell Sebastian to take care of whatever it was that was making the offending noise. His hands reached back, feeling the empty space and he was as confused as in his dream, wondering why he would have even assumed the demon to have been there in the first place. Thoroughly irritated now, he rose from the bed and padded across his bedroom towards where the sound was coming from. He pulled the drapes away from the east-facing window, sure there were no nearby trees that would have branches to make such a scratching sound and was unsurprised, but disappointed when there was nothing there. He moved all three feet of the large bottom window up the sash and thought nothing of the nearby marbled onyx stick he used to prop it open. He stuck his head out, looking two floors down and was immediately assaulted by the brisk late-autumn air that rushed by while the sun’s brightness continued to be enticing, but entirely deceiving; not unlike something familiar he was helpless to recall. He shrugged and turned to climb back into bed, assuming nobody would be awake as of yet. The minutes crawled by and Ciel couldn’t fall back asleep; something was off. He wasn’t used to waking on his own, hadn’t done so in what surely had been weeks. He turned over, trying, but failing to get comfortable again, his frustration mounting with his inability to understand where his unease, no, his feeling of being _not whole_ , came from. He knew perfectly well where the demon was, but could not _feel_ him there.

When Ciel had opened the window, he’d not noticed the swift black blur of feather and wing as the large, inky black raven that was his lover’s familiar flew inside his room. It landed and was silently still, unnoticed as Ciel crawled back into bed. Once the young man had settled, the sleek bird picked up it’s precious cargo with care and took flight again only to land on the bed with a muted rustling and settled the delicate crown of unwilting sterling silver roses upon the plush duvet before it. The crown was thorned and woven beautifully, intricately, the barbed stems braided loosely and bound together, their fragile, but unbreakable blooms smelling as if they had only just been plucked. It was light, smooth and fashioned of roses that no garden on earth possessed; the crown of Eve, woven from the silver roses of Eden and gifted to her by Adam, a token of the first lovers and so a fit courting gift from a demon to a divine butterfly. Yet another trinket, one Ciel would surely love like all the other holy and unholy artifacts he sought and collected.

The raven made a soft cooing sound, nudging the crown toward Ciel with its beak and shifted on its feet impatiently, wings restless and fidgeting as it watched Ciel intelligently with sharp and profoundly familiar garnet eyes. 

Ciel’s eyes fluttered open and he rubbed them with his fists, unsure if he had fallen asleep or not; though he must have, must be dreaming, for why else would such soft reassuring sounds be filling his head? What but his unconscious mind would conjure the feeling of something taking measured steps up and along his legs? 

“Jesus! Christ!” he punctuated the words, flailing, sitting up and scooting back, kicking wildly as he tried to shoo the sizeable raven away with his feet. “Get out!” he ordered, throwing a decorative pillow at it; he would have had a better chance of hitting it had he aimed for the large gilt mirror ten feet to the bird’s left. It seemed completely unfazed by his hysterics and perched itself on a post at the foot of the bed. 

Ciel stared at it, then looked towards the window, then back at the bird who was currently appraising him. No, birds didn’t appraise people, they _looked_ at people. But those eyes were knowing, searching for something, much more aware than your standard raven’s, “The hell is your problem, bird? Stop looking at me like that.” 

When the bird only blinked in response and made no apparent move to leave, Ciel scooched back down into his duvet, shifting into a more comfortable position when a glimmer caught his eye. Had the bird brought something to his bed? He’d heard that some animals did that; but more in the case of a pet bringing a gift to its master... “I swear to god bird, if you brought me a fucking field mouse, I’m going to eat you for dinner.” But mice didn’t glimmer, neither did fowl, he supposed fish _could_ …

Silver roses _did_ though; they definitely did. He got to his knees, letting the blanket pool around them and crawled over to the raven’s delivery. Swallowing hard, he slid his palms under what appeared to be a braided crown, careful not to damage it and examined it from above, below, rotated the impossibly perfect creation from side to side. “Flawless, absolutely flawless,” he breathed. 

A frown soon replaced his enraptured expression, not because the gift displeased him, but because he knew the lore of the silver roses. Such a place did not exist, _could not_ exist; and if it did, he knew only one individual, one being that could have procured such a rarity. He half wanted to chuck it at the bird, tell it to take it back to its master, still pained and irritated as he was with the demon. Instead, he held it reverently, hands shaking, and brought it to his face, inhaling the fragrance which must smell of Eden, of Heaven, but that he’d come to associate with his caged lover. When the raven averted its gaze momentarily, he brought his lips to the crown, feeling that it was as close to a thanks as he was able to muster at the moment. 

He looked upwards, letting the tears drain from his eyes and pulled his knees up to his chest circling them with his arms after having put the [ crown](https://chromehoplite.tumblr.com/image/160091985414) upon his head, “How’s it look bird? Is it me?” he asked, his voice choked and slightly higher than normal and the raven bobbed its head as if in affirmation. His chin rested on his knees and he stayed like that for some minutes, content to stare into the oddly familiar eyes of the raven, until his own eyes grew heavy with sleep and he shut them for several long seconds. He removed the crown with delicate tenderness and turning over onto his left side, dozed while part of it sat gingerly in his open palm.

The raven remained perched on the bedpost, watching the young man avidly, head tilting and bobbing with interest as its glittering sanguine eyes followed Ciel’s movements. It waited patiently while the youth fell asleep once again. Once Ciel’s breathing had evened out, the bird hopped onto the mattress and up to the head of the bed, plucking the sheets up and over the boy’s shoulders. It made a soft cooing sound again and nipped at the back of Ciel’s hair affectionately in farewell before it flew to the window sill and pushed the still unlocked and partially open window further so it could wiggle out and take off. 

There would be more trinkets spread over the bedding for the young heir when he woke again, the raven not in sight. Rosaries contrived of precious stones and blessed in blood from the holy wars in the time of King Arthur and his knights, rolled up, lost works from Leonardo Da Vinci depicting the fall of angels Ciel had never before seen, poetic psalms from the black bible, curls of braided rope, charred and imbued with yet more holy blood from the capture and subsequent burning of Jeanne d’Arc, and a small silk inlaid, beautifully crafted sterling silver jewelry box containing the crystallized heart of St. Valentine. All of the gifts laid with painstaking care across the sheets for the young master, all from the strikingly familiar raven upon its master’s behalf and it wouldn’t be until lunch later that day that the young man would actually see the bird again to receive yet another gift. 

Ciel sat in the study with Lizzie, sipping a bitter black chicory tea and awaiting lunch to be served when another tapping came upon the window. How the raven knew where to find him when the curtains were all drawn closed would remain a mystery for now. It waited patiently outside the glass barring its path. Burdened with a satin pouch filled with the finest dark chocolate from the monastery where monks had first begun producing the sinful treat, the bird tapped a clawed foot insistently against the pane until it felt the subtle vibrations of Ciel’s approach. 

“Lizzie, can you go to my room and get the Aston keys, we’ll go for a drive as soon as lunch is done.” She agreed on condition that she could drive. Ciel really didn’t care; he preferred being a passenger anyway. Once she’d left the room, he walked to the window, feeling the press of the aforementioned keys in his front pocket. Casting aside the elaborate drapery, he was unsurprised to see the raven whose signature tapping he’d quickly grown accustomed to; it beat its wings against the glass impatiently, waiting to be let in along with the blue satin pouch tied around its neck. 

“Again?” he asked, feigning exasperation as the raven flew past. He didn’t want to seem too eager to see what he’d been gifted this time because everything else had been beyond the realm of even fanciful imaginings. Of course he’d been wooed before; rich suitors had sent him popular works of art, sought-after designer clothing and jewellery and even a few luxury vehicles, but those gifts had been without romance or sentimentality. The raven’s master _knew_ Ciel’s desires, had tasted and revered them, and in his renewed attempts to seduce, tempt and court the heir, Sebastian was making his meaning quite clear; the mortal had _value_. Ciel _was_ something, one of a kind as the items he was gifting the young man; priceless. 

He smiled weakly to himself and loosened the silky ribbons from the raven’s neck delicately, careful not to harm the bird. The rich aroma of roasted cocoa beans that permeated the room once the pouch was unknotted was so heady and intoxicating that consuming the chocolates was unnecessary; their smell alone more than satiated his craving for the sweets, at least for the time being. Ciel emptied the decadent treats into an empty tea cup to save them for later and the raven, clearly insulted, screeched its disapproval. 

“Fine, fine… Look, I’ll have one, see?” he took a truffle and the moment it was in his mouth, it melted on his tongue, sweet, bitter and spicy. He swallowed, sucking back the confection when the heat of the cinnamon hit and flooded his mouth with an excess of saliva. _This was what heaven tasted like; it had to be_. He closed his eyes despite himself and flushed, recalling a similar sensation when he had tasted his lover a few nights ago. It took no time at all for the pleasant memory to ache in his chest and he turned away from the bird, unwilling for it to see the hurt written plainly on his face. 

“Tell him that’s enough; no more gifts,” he said a minute later and turned towards the raven, gently petting its head with a finger and then running two fingers down to its silky tail feathers. It shivered under his warm touch so he repeated the gesture. The raven looked up at him, expecting to be pet again, its eyes hungry and demanding when Ciel wandered to the cabinet at the far end of the study where his father kept a variety of essential oils in small two-milliliter vials that he used to cleanse and purify the space. “Wait there, I have something for you.” 

But the raven was not Sebastian, was not obligated to obey his orders, and so Ciel wasn't shocked by the bird perching itself upon his shoulder, watching intently as he rummaged through a variety of small bottles until he came upon an empty one. The young man walked back to the table, acutely aware of the talons digging into his flesh as he picked up the finely serrated steak knife that had been set for his lunch and cut the fleshy part of his palm with a harsh hiss. Prying the cork stopper out of the vial with his teeth, he made a tight fist over the glass bottle and filled it with ease. He put the stopper securely back on, placing the sealed vial in the blue satin pouch and secured it around the neck of his lover’s servant. “You give this to him only when he needs it,” he instructed, then offered his bloodied hand, palm up to the bird as thanks.

The raven bobbed its head before it eagerly lapped up the offered essence, cooing and purring happily until Ciel’s hand was clean of blood and the wound he’d inflicted himself was tingling pleasantly as it closed. Then the bird pitched a quiet chirrup of farewell and took off out the still open window just as Lizzie came back into the room, already accusing her cousin of sending her on a wild goose chase when he must have his keys on his person.

***

Soon after Ciel _found_ his keys and handed them to Lizzie, they were in his Aston Martin Vantage with their previously untouched lunch packed in a basket and stowed in the backseat. They drove in relative silence, not even commenting on the scenery as it zipped past every sharp turn and long stretch of highway, each absorbed in their own thoughts until they saw the sign for Portland Head Light. It was at that point that Lizzie muted the radio that had done nothing to drown out Ciel’s growing list of things that caused his mind disquiet, and pulled into a parking space overlooking the cliffside rocky shore. He felt his cousin turn to face him and knew she would launch into her usual interrogation or try to offer her advice, but nothing his cousin could possibly say would distract from Ciel’s inner turmoil.

Lizzie could feel the tension in her cousin as they drove, but kept quiet until they had made it to their destination. When the engine had been cut and silence had reigned for several long moments in which she had hoped he would simply come out with whatever was weighing on him, but didn’t, she heaved a silent sigh, turned fully in her seat to look at him and reached for the hand closest to her. She gave it a supportive squeeze and decided she would pry whatever it was out of him instead. “Ciel, I can tell you have something heavy on your mind… You can talk to me. I’ll do my best to help you sort it out. Does it.. Is it something with Sebastian?”

Ciel squeezed her hand back and smiled at her weakly, “No, I think I have a yeast infection. Is the estate downstream from a bread factory?”

Lizzie pursed her lips and pinched the skin on the back of his hand as punishment, “Don’t be a shit. I hardly think that look on your face is due to the loss of freshness in your trousers. And it was certainly no _feminine itch_ that caused that fever and all those marks the other night, speaking of which, you healed pretty fast. Those must have been some strong antibiotics.” 

Ciel winced and drew back his smarting hand, rubbing it as the redness from the pinch was already fading. “Ouch! No, I believe that was all you Lizzie; either you missed your calling or... you're secretly a witch in training...” His eyes widened as he waggled his eyebrows at her cheekily. It wasn’t that much of a stretch, considering he himself owned a demon who was also his lover; at this point anything was plausible. 

Ciel got out of the car and fetched the basket and blanket from the backseat, setting both of them at the cliff’s edge. He felt his cousin’s eyes on him, scrutinizing every move he made and knew he should pretend to be at least a little stiff given what she’d observed the previous night; but of everyone, Lizzie was the one individual with whom he could be himself without fear of reprisal. She’d never judged him, always did her best to understand him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to be completely honest with her, since he wasn’t sure how much he could actually say without putting her at some risk. Ciel wasn’t even sure if he was sworn to secrecy about what his family actually did. He cursed Vincent for what seemed the millionth time for not having adequately prepared him for his role in the dynastic burden he’d inherited; but as much as he wanted to blame Vincent, he could hardly absolve himself of any responsibility since he hadn’t sought the answers he needed either. In grasping his part in this failure, he had to admit to himself that he was also out of his depth when it came to his conflicting feelings regarding the demon and needed Lizzie to confirm and validate them, especially since she was so willing to help. “Everything has to do with Sebastian lately,” he said, patting the spot next to him on the blanket in invitation.

Lizzie hummed thoughtfully as she followed her cousin, seating herself next to him when he beckoned her too. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them lazily, watching him with a tilted head, considering how to ask after what he’d said. “Is that so terrible?” she finally questioned, blond brows furrowing with compassionate concern. 

He seemed so out of sorts and she realized whatever was between he and his raven haired assistant was something wholly new and likely unexpected on Ciel’s part. He didn’t know love like she did and she felt for him. She gave him a soft smile of reassurance and shifted a bit to lean against him; she would do her best to support and assist him through his mixed feelings. She’d seen the way the two men had looked at one another and regardless of what secrets they kept between them, they hadn’t been able to hide their obvious attraction and attachment to each other.

“I don't know if _terrible_ is the right word, more like infuriating and confusing,” he leaned his head against hers, wringing his hands nervously. “You might understand this better than most since you're in law school and you're corrupt enough to want to defend criminals, but honestly, how do you trust someone you know has done wrong?”

“Hm, isn’t that a little hypocritical coming from you? Don’t think I don’t know what you and Soma get up to with all those _confiscated_ artifacts you’re so fond of collecting… Not all criminals are evil Ciel and not all of them are liars either. And I personally believe no one is beyond redemption. Whatever Sebastian’s done in his past; it doesn’t mean that he can’t change or that he’s being dishonest with you. Sometimes, I think, you just have to take the risk, make that leap of faith and hope for the best. You might be surprised,” Lizzie replied, tone quiet and careful, a little wistful, but also scolding, a mix of contradictions, but her words were true and honest and she meant them. She didn’t want him to push away something good because he was afraid of being hurt or betrayed when he had no way of knowing if that would even come to pass. If he guarded his heart too much, he would end up all alone and the thought made her own heart ache for him. He had to be fair to anyone he might be with presently or in future and he had to be fair to himself.

Ciel turned away from the blonde, not out of anger or anything, but he'd just been taken aback. He’d thought for sure she'd side with him, especially considering she'd assumed Sebastian to be the one responsible for his condition the previous night. He often forgot exactly how much she noticed; he certainly hadn't expected that she’d known about what he and Soma got up to. He pitied anyone who'd have to face her in court. “He's not exactly a petty thief. The litany of crimes you could tie him to...” most of which Ciel himself was ignorant and after their fallout, he was quite happy to stay that way.

“I dunno Liz, I feel like I wasn't even given a choice in the matter, of being with him that is… Like it was beyond both our control. All I know for a fact is that it won't end well… that I'll end up consumed by him.” He looked at her, frowning and concerned that he may have revealed too much regarding his covenant, but he pressed on regardless, “Tell me, will it still be worth it if that's the outcome? If you knew you'd get hurt in the end, would you still do it?”

Lizzie was quiet for a long moment, her blue eyes soft and a little sad as she looked at her cousin. “I would… I have… Ciel, love is always at least a little painful and consuming, but it’s always worth it. I think that’s what makes it so profound and romantic. There’s always a risk, but it’s better to know love and be hurt, than to not know it at all. Trust me. Don’t you think that Sebastian could be made just as vulnerable by it? Ciel… What happened with Sebastian?” she said finally, her voice still quiet and soothing while she tried to both comfort and advise him.

Ciel carefully considered Lizzie’s words; she’d said so little, but her words had been grave and heavy with meaning. Though she'd meant to comfort him with the idea of Sebastian made vulnerable, the concept had the opposite effect. Ciel imagined that demons probably reacted more similarly to animals than humans in such a state, and animals who were made vulnerable and rendered defenseless were most unpredictable, at their most dangerous, their most vicious. And while a more threatening Sebastian might have thrilled him a week ago, all it did now was turn his blood to ice.

“I don't even know if the relationship is salvageable at this point… God, I fucked up Lizzie,” he ran his hand through his hair, dampened by the sea spray coming off the breeze. “I honestly thought we were just messing around… You saw him and I see the way people look at him. He could have his choice of lovers; I thought I was just one more for him, so I made sure not to get attached here or here” he explained, pointing to his heart then his head, “I told him that in so many words! That what we had was _meaningless_ ; as if that wasn’t bad enough, I threw it back in his face by treating _him_ as though here were nothing. He returned the favour in kind when I asked him to show me how that felt. How the hell do we come back from that?”

Lizzie gave him another of those bittersweet smiles and slipped one arm around him, pulling him against her as she replied, “That’s another thing about love; it can make you say the most hurtful things, but it also allows you to forgive those same things,” she paused a second or two and gave him an assuring squeeze, “And you know, while everyone might be looking at Sebastian, he only sees you. I saw it myself Ciel… It makes no difference how long you’ve been acquainted or what pasts you both have, what secrets or regrets; those things have no bearing on love when you find the one you’re meant to be with. If you called for him, I bet he would rush to meet you, no matter how you’ve hurt one another. That’s what devotion means.”

She was right of course, though how she’d become such an expert in love and romance was beyond his understanding. She spoke from a place of experience and he was quite sure that she would have blabbed if she’d been with anyone in that capacity. He supposed he could call Sebastian, but if he was going to be answering to an order, rather than come to him of his own volition, what exactly was the point? “Yeah, we’ll see... I’ll deal with it after Vincent’s funeral; but since you’re being so forthcoming, you won’t mind telling me whose blood I should be out for…”

She drew her head back to look at him properly, arching a perfect blonde eyebrow.

“You’re clearly speaking from experience,” he said, exasperated, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest and curiosity in the noonday sun, “So who hurt you, and why didn’t you tell me?”

Lizzie snorted softly and bumped her shoulder against his as a soft pink tinted her cheeks. “Because it was you, you silly git. You’re so dense sometimes, you know that?” she answered, a sort of nostalgic bittersweetness in her tone and she blew out a sigh, stirring her bangs playfully. “Ahh I was so young when you broke my heart. And you didn’t even know it.”

“I… I didn't mean to… I didn’t _know,_ ” Ciel flushed, pulling away from his cousin, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. Embarrassed and slightly ashamed, he couldn’t meet her gaze; they’d always been close and of course he loved her… “Geeze Lizzie, you know if I wasn't...” how he wished he could have made her happy the way she deserved to be. Cupping her cheek, he bent his head until their foreheads touched, “I’m sorry.” 

Ciel thought she must have made peace with her feelings some time ago, because she simply shook her head, playfully pushed him away and called him a few choice names, before she settled her head in his lap, demanding to be fed grapes. They spent most of the afternoon that way, and only made it back to the estate once the sun had set.

***

Sebastian was still as he could be, curled in his cage and wrapped in his wings as his skin throbbed and twitched, the poison pulsing in his veins as it was flushed out. It was a profound and bitter aching, one he’d scarcely felt in his very long life, if ever, lingering painfully in his core. But he did not regret taking it from his mate; that Ciel had had to endure even a fraction of it stung him with equally agonizing guilt. Being that he had been the cause of it in the first place was more than enough reason for him to have taken it into himself to spare his lover; a rightful penance for his unjust treatment of the young man.

He could not be sure how many hours had passed in which he’d sent his familiar in place of himself with the most exquisite gifts he’d had hidden away in his personal collection across countries and oceans, in sepulchres, chapels, holy and unholy ruins, and safe places of his own making. Thousands of years worth of priceless lost relics kept carefully, guarded from the hands of those most unworthy only to be gifted as tokens of courting to his beloved mortal who would no doubt, cherish them as was befitting such unique items. And he regretted nothing.

He coveted the crystal vial of his mate’s blood as if it was more precious than any of the artifacts he’d sent Ciel and so it was to the fallen. He did not consume it yet, biding his time and intending to savour it, choosing to believe it was a sign of his mate’s forgiveness as he waited for the poison to abate.

The sudden scent of lilacs spread through the damp basement, cloyingly familiar in its sweetness and Sebastian was immediately on edge, upright though his body throbbed with every movement. He refused to appear as weak as he currently felt, sanguine garnet lit and glowing in the darkness, narrowing as the wall sconces lit themselves, no doubt coaxed into life by his wholly unexpected and unpleasant visitor.

The tall, ghostly ethereal form of Lucifer descended the steps without sound, his lavender eyes half lidded and amused as he looked at Sebastian. “Hello little brother,” the prince of hell greeted silkily as he slipped closer to Sebastian’s cage, looking over the runes etched into the bars with some interest. They were a mix of demonic and angelic enochian; an intriguing and effective imprisonment for fallen angels like Asmodeus and himself. How clever…

Sebastian shifted, wings restless at his back as he watched his elder sibling move around his cage, suspicious and sharp. If Lucifer himself had come in the stead of others, it could mean nothing good. He growled lowly, warning and unwelcoming as the other fallen angel leisurely strolled around outside the bars that bound Sebastian.

The elder demon clicked his tongue, chastising, “Now now, is that anyway to greet your elder brother?”

“Don’t play games. Why have you come Lucifer?”

“Why indeed… Not yet to destroy you, so you can relax Asmodeus. I’ve come to pay my respects to the late Vincent Phantomhive, his grieving wife, and his pretty young heir. I must say, your young master is quite the unique little animal, isn’t he? So arrogant and full of pride; he’d make quite the intriguing little pet… for a time, at least,” Lucifer said conversationally, reaching to run one fingertip down the glowing characters on one bar of Sebastian’s cage, unflinching as his skin sizzled quietly, adding his own layer of confining magic to the entrapment.

“You’ll leave him be Lucifer. Your contempt lies with me and so too should your vengeance be cast upon my head and not his. He’s nothing to you,” Sebastian argued, voice low and strained, desperate to lash out, to shift Lucifer’s keen attention from his butterfly back to himself.

“Ahh, but Asmodeus, he’s _something_ to you; what sweeter vengeance could there be than to covet that which you _love_ so dearly?” Lucifer gave pause a moment, his lavender eyes watching, judging, revelling in the seething desperation beneath the other fallen angel’s skin, “Even now you suffer for him so willingly… I can smell the poison in you misguided little brother. Not to worry though, I’ll remove the stain of Phantomhive from you ever so graciously. You should be so lucky to garner my generosity Asmodeus. Come now, where’s my gratitude?”

“Brother, please…” Lucifer’s head cocked to the side as Sebastian’s voice faded on the plea.

“What’s this? You would beg for his soul in your stead? My my, what shamelessness, but it’s too late for prayers Asmodeus. The Phantomhives have long since forfeited the right for my forgiveness and you alongside them. You’ve become weak little brother, but I will make you strong again; think of it as penance for your sins against us. A thousand thousand deaths would not cleanse you as the pain you should have when I tear him from your bond and shatter him before you,” Lucifer said, turning his back on Sebastian and playing with a lock of his hair idly as he stepped back towards the staircase.

“Lucifer wait! Don’t-” Sebastian tried to stall the other demon, grabbing onto the bars of his confinement, hissing and pulling away from the searing burning of the runes on his cage. 

Lucifer glanced back over his shoulder at his younger brother and smiled wickedly, “Ah, I’m afraid I have a funeral to prepare for and a butterfly to acquaint myself with. It was truly a _pleasure_ to see you little brother. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again soon. Do get some rest; you look positively horrid,” he said before he was gone in a whisper of feathers and the lingering scent of lilacs. 

The dread that gripped Sebastian was potent, consuming even and he all but forgot the throbbing of the venom pulsing through him as he called for his familiar. He plucked a long dark inky feather from his own thick plumed wings, pressed it to his lips and whispered protection and devotion into the silky strands, begging that Ciel would be safe, that his mate would call him if he needed to, would not hesitate as he had with Beelzebub. Lucifer was not at all a being to trifle with and Ciel’s curiosity could well be his undoing. His raven took the feather from his fingertips and bobbed its head in acceptance of his order before it took flight once more to seek out the young man that had apparently caught the attention of more than just one dangerous being.

***

For the fourth instance since the clock had chimed three times, Ciel had gotten so close to nodding off that he'd felt the familiar falling sensation, only to jerk fully awake again.

He punched his lump of a pillow then slapped it back flat and it still wasn’t comfortable. He tossed and turned, sprawled on his back and flattened his arm over his eyes. He was too cold, then too hot, and hating the feeling, he kicked free, sticking his bare leg outside his comforter with his toes hanging off the bed only long enough for him to childishly imagine something pulling his foot off from beneath the bed. 

He huffed, throwing the blankets off, and went off in search of a drink, bypassing his ensuite with the jug of fresh water and crystal glasses the butler had left prior to his going to bed, convincing himself that he needed something stronger, and for that he would have to go to his father’s study. 

He ran his hand down the cool fiberglass stair railing, padding barefoot as he had so many times in childhood when he’d snuck to the entertainment room after his parents had fallen asleep to play Guitar Hero or DDR. As it had been back then, the house was pitch with the servants all gone to their quarters. The more he neared the basement door on his way to his father’s study, the more he caught the vague scent of lilacs; it confused him since it was now November and the lilacs had bloomed in May. 

He passed the study and kept going to the end of the hall, stood just outside the door that would lead to the basement, even put his hand on the lock, closing his eyes and resting his head on the door, humming to himself the melancholy tune that had grown increasingly familiar. His heart beat once… and twice... and a third time. Despite his best efforts today to appear carefree around Lizzie and his mother, he found very little warmth left in him. And still he stood there, immobile, as if his feet were nailed to the floor, and he did not allow himself to think, except to distort the truth when his soul cried out to the servant. The guilt was still there, but there was doubt before it, vying for prominence. 

He swallowed regretfully and pushed Sebastian out of his mind and let go of the lock, letting it clang loudly against the door behind him, echoing down the hall as he made his way back up the stairs and into Lizzie’s room. He nostalgically crawled into bed behind her snoring form, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, knowing she would not be able to provide the comfort he craved, but willing to make due. 

The raven flew to Ciel’s window, found only the stale essence of the young man’s presence and moved on, passed the office windows and the darkened panes of the master bedroom to the guest room. The bird landed on the outcropped sill and ruffled its wings, settling them back as it hopped towards the glass, tapping against it just enough to be heard in the night’s silence with its burdened beak.

At the sound of tapping, Ciel shot up in bed, not having been able to find any depth to his sleep. He disentangled himself from Lizzie, who had unconsciously wound her feet with his own and yawned as he slid the window open. Turning on his heel, he beckoned the familiar to follow him to the bed where he lay back to back with his cousin, giving the bird more than enough space to rest beside him in the king sized bed. 

The raven took wing again and glided down onto the bed next to Ciel with a soft thump. It hopped closer to Ciel and laid the long, dark feather before him, presenting the gift and puffing its chest with pride for having delivered it without mishap. It made soft cooing sounds as it shifted from foot to foot, preened its feathers and eyed Ciel expectantly.

Ciel propped his head up, holding it in his right hand as he picked up the raven’s offering. It was unmistakably the demon’s, too long to belong to the bird before him. Despite the darkness of the room, the feather threw prisms that shone in the moonlight and reflected off the walls as though they’d been made of glass. Its scent reminded Ciel impossibly of home; impossible because he’d never been to paradise, though he surmised that Sebastian, _Asmodeus_ was likely to have called Heaven his home at one point since he had finally concluded that the demon was not only some unholy creation, but a fallen angel, had belonged to the heavenly host before he’d taken residence in Hell. It was then that Ciel was struck with homesickness and was tempted, as he had been some short time ago, to go to his demon, but feared facing his own shame as well as the possibility of rejection. 

“Thanks Poe,” the young master replied, running the back of his index finger along the apex of the raven’s head, trying to assess whether it minded the moniker he’d come up with in the past day. _Bird_ seemed an insufficient title for such a magnificently loyal and intelligent creature. “Does he hate me?” He croaked, knowing it was a slightly ridiculous question, given the sheer amount of treasures the raven had brought in the stead of his master; but had the tables been turned, Ciel was almost certain he could not have been as forgiving as the demon. 

Poe trilled and purred approvingly under the affection and tilted his head in response to the question, his intelligent garnet gaze focused on the young man. He nipped at Ciel’s fingers and the feather as if it was answer enough before he hopped closer to Ciel’s head and settled upon his pillow, cooing contentedly and nuzzling against the soft strands of Ciel’s hair with obvious affection.

Hoping he’d interpreted the raven’s answering affection correctly, Ciel nodded and followed Poe’s lead in settling himself, letting comfort and sleep claim him for the few hours he had left before he would be forced to face the few individuals who’d been invited to say their last farewells to Vincent Phantomhive.

Chapter 13 Blooper Reel

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Phantomhive Estate - Ciel’s Bedroom) Take 15*

 **Ciel _(flailing, trying to shake off the feeling of something on his legs)_ : ** Jesus! Christ! _(The touches begin to feel suspiciously like groping hands and he yanks the sheets up to reveal a grinning Sebastian.)_

**Sebastian:** I prefer Sebastian. Good morning bocchan.

 **Ciel:** It is now. _(He puts the sheets back down and lays back into the mattress with a cheshire grin while Sebastian begins humming from beneath the sheets.)_

 **Director:** I quit. There’s no reasoning with them.

_Cut!_

 

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Phantomhive Estate - Ciel’s Study) Take Twenty

_(Ciel and Lizzie are sipping a bitter black chicory tea and waiting for lunch to be served)_

**Lizzie _(pushing aside her teacup)_ :**The tea’s really gone to shit in the past few days. Where’s it from The toilet? 

**Ciel _(spitting his mouthful back into the teacup)_ :**I know! It tastes like pond water.

 **Sebastian _(his voice travelling from the basement and through the vent in the study)_ :** It’s because it is pond water. Let me out of my cage you little shit. 

**Lizzie** Did you hear something?

 **Ciel:** Nope. Let’s go to McDonald’s.

 **Sebastian:** I’ll remember that tomorrow morning. 

_Cut!_

 

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Phantomhive Estate - Ciel’s Bedroom) Take 18*

 **Ciel:** Fine, fine… Look, I’ll have one, see? (He takes a truffle and puts it in his mouth., moaning at the taste while the raven bobs his head encouragingly.)

 **Raven:** That’s it, now swallow.

_(Ciel passes out soon after and the raven begins dragging him away towards the basement.)_

**Sebastian:** I do love room service.

 **Raven:** Where’s my tip cheap bastard?

 **Lizzie _(Returns to the empty study)_ :** Ciel? Ooh chocolates! Don’t mind if I do…

_Cut!_

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Phantomhive Estate - Ciel’s Study) Take Twenty-four*

_(Ciel picks up the finely serrated steak knife intending to cut the fleshy part of his palm)_

**The Raven _(wincing)_ :** Are you retarded? A steak knife? 

**Ciel:** You talk? 

**The Raven _(picking up a letter opener laying in plain sight on the desk and spitting it out in front of Ciel)_ :** Yes, I fucking talk; not like you or my demon bitch ever asked. 

**Ciel _(blinks, mouth wide open)_ :** ...

 **The Raven:** You ignorant slut. 

_(Ciel calls Sebastian from his cage)_

**Sebastian _(Comes upstairs, out of breath, looking ragged)_ :** Yes, my lord?

 **Ciel: _(shudders at Sebastian’s haggard appearance)_ :** You have a bird? A talking bird? A bitchy talking bird? Get him under control, or _(whispers)_ no more cookie…

 **Sebastian:** Yes, bocchan. _(turns to face the bird)_

**The Raven:** You look like hell... Ha ha ha…

 **Sebastian:** Do you remember when we watched Aladdin? Do you remember what happens to the parrot at the end of the movie? 

**Ciel _(looking at Sebastian in disgust)_ :** You watched Aladdin? Without me? You’re sleeping in your cage tonight. 

**Sebastian _(growls at the raven)_ :** This is all your fault. 

**The Raven:** Regardless, I’m sleeping with Ciel tonight. 

_Cut!_

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Portland Head Light, Maine - on Sea Cliffs) Take Twenty-Nine*

 **Ciel _(Squeezes Lizzie’s hand back and smiles at her weakly)_ :** No, I think I have a yeast infection. Is the estate downstream from a bread factory?

 **Lizzie _(pulls out a tube of Canesten from the picnic basket and pulls Ciel to his feet, leading him to the hood of the Aston Martin, bending him over and pulling down his pants down to his ankles)_ :** Don’t be a little shit, now spread your cheeks. 

**Ciel _(looking over his shoulder)_ :** Sebastian! Get out of Lizzie!

 **Sebastian:** Spoilsport...

_Cut!_

*Scene 13 “Apparition” (Phantomhive Estate - Lizzie’s bedroom) Take Thirty-three*

_(Ciel takes the feather from the raven and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply, closing his eyes and shuddering. He inhales again, peeks over at Lizzie to be sure she’s still sleeping before he presses the feather against his nose, closes his eyes and his other hand very slowly creeps under the sheets and to his erection.)_

**Sebastian _(Seeing through the raven’s eyes)_ :** Come on… Come on butterfly, just say my name…

_Cut!_


	14. Eulogy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of this chapter: Be responsible, please have your pets spayed or neutered  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ The Noose by A Perfect Circle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVXTmav24Wk&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=180)  
> Ciel~ [Kill and Run by Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYB8ru7vLRQ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing! Thanks for your continued support and comments! It's so appreciated!

Lizzie woke to a most annoying strain of light on her face, filtering through the window that she was certain had been closed the night before when she had gone to sleep. She had most definitely drawn the curtains before getting into bed. Feeling the weight and warmth behind her, she knew her cousin must be the culprit. She turned to face him, half sitting up and preparing to assault him with a pillow when her gaze landed on the bird curled closely to his head, snoozing as if it was the most natural place for it to be. She almost thought it was stuffed, but she could see the expansion and decompression of its feathered body and she blinked once, twice before she shrieked shrilly.

The raven let out a startled shriek of its own, jolted awake, hissing and fluffing its feathers defensively, levelling a decidedly reproachful narrowed garnet glare at the young woman. Poe snapped his beak at Lizzie and chittered irately, hopping around Ciel’s head protectively as the girl brandished the pillow as both a shield and weapon. Lizzie let out more pitched squeals and shrieks whenever the bird moved, bobbing and weaving on Ciel’s pillow, demanding for it to get out while also trying to shoo it away from her cousin without actually coming in contact with it. 

It was not the high shrill of Lizzie’s voice or the irate hiss from Poe that brought Ciel out of his slumber, but rather a mouthful of feathers from the pillow that slammed down on his face. He sat up, spitting the down from his mouth, sticking his tongue out and licking the back of his hand to rid himself of those tiniest of feathers that would not come out of their own accord and glared at Lizzie. 

“Jesus Lizzie, stop!” he exclaimed, getting to his knees, shielding Poe from his cousin’s frantic movements on the bed. 

Lizzie stilled with the pillow poised above her head in preparation for another offensive attack on the unwelcome fowl in her bed when Ciel shielded the raven and called her attention. “What the actual fuck Ciel?!” she replied, voice high and upset, completely caught off guard and confused by his defense of the assumedly wild animal while Poe plucked at the back of Ciel’s nightshirt in affectionate gratitude and cooed his greeting.

Ciel’s hands were held out in front of him at a loss for what to tell his bewildered cousin as he slowly backed off the bed, putting distance between himself and Lizzie. “Um, it’s my… pet. Yeah, that’s it… I got him in Paris.” His hands never left their defensive position as he finally felt the door handle dig squarely at the dip of his back. As he put a hand behind himself to yank it open, he felt Poe’s talons dig into his shoulder, “I’ll, uh… talk to you in a bit Liz… I’m going to go get ready. I’ll come find you for breakfast ‘kay?”

Poe settled on Ciel’s shoulder, the precious gifted black feather held securely in his beak as the young man excused himself from his cousin’s room, leaving Lizzie sitting in the rumpled bedding. The pillow lay in her lap, hands still idly clutching at its seams as Ciel practically fled her borrowed bedroom, a wide-eyed look that was both puzzled and suspicious on her pretty face as the door clicked shut behind him and his proclaimed _pet_. She’d never known him to keep pets, after his father had had his fateful dog put down when he was just a child, and certainly she’d have never expected him to keep such a unique, albeit somewhat sinister one such as the large raven. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

***

Once in his room, Ciel made a beeline for the ensuite, noting that he had about an hour in which he could get ready, have breakfast, make proper use of his lover’s latest offering and help his mother. Sensing his urgency, the raven removed itself from his shoulder once he’d grabbed the hem of his nightshirt to pull over his head. He leaned forward into the glass cubicle of the shower to turn on the water and get it warm, then threw open the nearby window, enjoying how his skin reacted pleasantly to the mingling of the warming mist of the shower and the cool breeze from outside. Turning to get back into the shower, he noticed Poe hadn’t left the washroom, was gazing at him, tilting its head from side to side as if trying to take him all in.

“Getting a good view, pervert?” Ciel chuckled before getting into the shower. Of course Poe didn’t respond verbally, but the raven’s eyes never left the young master’s form, opting to watch from its perch atop the shower rather than through the fogged glass, bobbing his head emphatically. At first, it felt strange to be watched so intimately by another, but the garnet stare was so familiar, so tender yet still predatory that he quickly became accustomed to it. 

Ciel closed his eyes, turning his face up into the spray, imagining his back pressing into Sebastian, his lover’s arms encircling his waist, hot breath and mouth against his neck, nipping and gently breaking the skin there, feeling the taller man harden and pulse behind him as he ran his hands reverently, adoringly over his belly, and hips.

He moaned then sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers brushed the tip of his erection, imagining they were the long, soot-tipped digits of his lover wrapping themselves around his length and squeezing instead of his own. He leaned back against the glass wall, so lust-drunk that its coldness didn’t faze him as he lazily dragged his fist up and down his shaft; each time his hand fully covering his head and then increasing his grip as he went down, strangling it just below crown. He groaned, squeezing his shaft again as he fisted upwards, causing the slit to leak and dribble down the head, coating it, making it easier for him to pump harder and faster. “Ah… Ngh...” It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, not like when his lover took care of his needs; there was no biting, no sucking, he couldn’t find the right rhythm, wasn’t breathless from devouring the demon’s mouth, missed the spicy flavour of his tongue seeking Sebastian’s. Out of frustration, Ciel struck the wall behind him with his unoccupied hand and the disappointment had him driving his hips forward and into his grip more forcefully; he pushed his wet hair out of his face to stare at the servant’s familiar, his sapphire gaze accusatory, desperate and wanting, biting his lip to keep the moans at bay, but it did no good. “Se… Sebastian…” he pinched his eyes shut, his engorged member so close, furiously seeking relief…

“Ciiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeellllllllll! My best friend!” He heard the jubilant and excited voice of Soma call from around the corner.

More annoyed than embarrassed, Ciel turned away from the voice while shielding his privates, thanking whichever deities were listening that the water had been hot enough to fog the glass encasement to its present state. “You ass! Get out of here _for fuck’s sake_! What if I were masturbating?!” 

Soma doubled over laughing, “You? Ciel-I-Am-So-Pure-Phantomhive? I seriously doubt it. Hurry, finish up in there; we have much to talk about!” 

Poe made an odd breathy noise that distinctly resembled a snort and stretched his wings one at a time as if showing them off before he settled them again, preening his feathers back into place meticulously while he remained perched above Ciel and completely escaped Soma’s notice. He was disinterested in the other young man and was seemingly not at all impressed by his interruption.

Thoroughly limp now, Ciel gave up any notion of finishing what he had begun, quickly washed his hair and lathered his body in his preferred honeyed-lavender soap, then joined his friend back in his bedroom. It was only when he’d started dressing behind the privacy screen, listening to Soma go on about his latest trip to India, and that being the reason as to why he couldn’t get any reception to answer Ciel’s texts, that it dawned on the him that his friend might play a major role in his reconciliation with the demon if he could provide him with the crucial information he needed; but to have that conversation, he would have to somehow distract Poe. 

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Ciel asked, coming around the screen and standing before his tall, stunning friend. There really was no other word for it, Soma was beautiful; the way few women in the world were beautiful with his long lashes, almond-shaped amber eyes and perfect flirty half smile. He stood there in what was considered a traditional Indian garb for a funeral, with its perfect whiteness complementing the olive undertones of his complexion while the azure accents pulled gold flecks from his irises. 

As he’d done so many times in Italy, Soma looked his friend over appreciatively, straightening out a sleeve here and dusting off a piece of lint there, until he settled on Ciel’s pale grey patterned silk ascot to tie it accordingly. “Nope. I thought if I was to travel great distances to be a guest at Phantomhive, the least the little heir could do was treat me to a feast once I arrived.” 

“Right,” Ciel scoffed as Poe came to settle himself back on his shoulder and Soma didn’t so much as blink when he did, “Have you considered that you are here to attend my father’s funeral and that I might be inconsolable with grief?” 

They looked at each other, their eyes widening fractionally and then both started laughing. Ciel felt guilty as they left his room as they walked down the staircase side by side; he would have to pretend to be somewhat desolate, if not just for his mother. 

Relieved that Lizzie wasn’t yet downstairs once they got there, he instructed Soma to wait for him in the dining room while he went to the refrigerator in search of raw meat. He wasn’t disappointed by the sheer amount of it and despite the strange looks he got from the hired caterers, he continued cutting (with some difficulty and zero finesse) a full striploin steak that had been set aside for the luncheon they would be providing after the funeral to the guests he’d invited. Filling a bowl with the meat and washing his hands quickly, he made his way to the French doors that led to the garden where he often took his tea with his mother as a child and put the food out for the familiar. 

Soma was already stuffing his face when Ciel reached the dining room and sat next to him as he was served a black vanilla-flavoured tea from Sri Lanka and a buttered crumpet. “So?” 

Soma finished chewing his quiche and spoke uncharacteristically in a whisper so low, that his small friend had to move closer to him to hear properly. “Since you’ve procured the holy artifact from the Royal Chapel, it will be enough to earn you an audience with someone who is well-acquainted with an individual that has long been rumored to dabble in the art of _animancy_. Now, I’m not sure if he’ll be able to create a _soul_ for the unholy, but can you imagine what that could mean for us as exorcists if he could?” Soma knew his friend had had very little choice in his career path, so that such a feat might help relieve him of this burden, but for himself and his own family, being part of such a discovery would help remove the stain of disrepute that had long plagued his royal bloodline. 

“Whom am I looking for? What do they look like? I can’t exactly walk up to various individuals with the spike that nailed Christ to his cross and ask if they’re interested…” Ciel said in response, knowing both he and his friend were motivated very differently in seeing this thing through. 

“He was an acquaintance of your father’s,” Soma began then took another bite of his quiche, not missing the look of annoyance that flashed across Ciel’s face as he delayed giving him the information he’d so wanted for days. He swallowed then continued, “...so he should be here. He goes by the name _Snake_.”

“Oh, come on. That can’t be his real name. Besides, I didn’t invite a _Snake_ ”, he’ll be turned away at the entrance,” Ciel quipped, quite irked that someone not on the guest list might show up. 

Soma laughed, a heartfelt echoing laugh as he leaned back in his chair and held his belly, “Are you so naive that you think only those that you invited will attend your father’s funeral? The man was a legend, Ciel. I hope you ordered a lot of food for lunch…” With that he skewered his last bit of quiche, then with his mouth full, “Besides, Snake will be here, exorcist funerals are kinda his thing, but don’t bother looking for him, he’ll find you.” 

“But how will I kno-” 

“Oh, you’ll know it’s Snake, don’t worry about it, he’s impossible to miss,” Soma interrupted just as Lizzie made her way into the dining room, an irritated look on her face as she eyed her cousin whose raven perched itself on his shoulder anew and nipped his ear affectionately. 

Poe returned Lizzie’s glare with a seemingly smug stare of his own, unblinking as he nuzzled and plucked at Ciel’s hair fondly. The girl was certain the bird was purposely showing off and revelling in its cozy perch on her cousin’s shoulder and it only served to irk her further. The raven was far too intelligent for a bird to be in her opinion; it was eerie to see the understanding in its beaded scarlet eyes. How Ciel could be so relaxed and comfortable with it was beyond her.

She sat down across from Soma, perpendicular to Ciel, eyeing the bird as it eyed her right back, but she didn’t ask after it again, opting instead to make her morning greetings casually. Forcibly ignoring the strange pet, she went on to discuss the alcohol she’d brought for later in the evening, certain they would all be requiring a strong drink when the funeral proceedings were finally at an end. She had no doubt that it was going to be a long and trying day for all of them, especially her cousin.

***

As Soma had predicted, there were far more guests attending the late Lord Phantomhive’s funeral proceedings than had strictly been invited, some to pay respects, others to be certain Vincent was well and truly dead, buried and leaving only his young, inexperienced and assumedly harmless heir in his wake. Many people spoke during the eulogy, prolonging it further than had originally been anticipated, including Vincent’s widowed wife and his son, other distant family members, colleagues, friends and government officials from various countries around the world.

Vincent’s network was expansive and a number of the individuals that made up the widespread web sought out Ciel to introduce themselves and give condolences as well as let the young heir know that they intended to be loyal to him as they had been to his father before him. Should he have need of any of them, he should not hesitate to contact them in future.

So it was Ciel had yet to meet _Snake_ and as he was finally able to escape the knotted crowd of people wishing to greet him in order to begin searching for the man, Poe had returned to his shoulder. The large raven’s weight and soft feathers against Ciel’s neck as well as the bird’s affectionate cooes and nuzzling was welcome and soothing to the young man’s frayed nerves and strained patience. He was making a beeline towards a sparsely populated area within the gardens when he was once again disrupted, though the man that crossed his intended path was nothing short of breathtaking and intriguing; Ciel could not even be irritated for the further delay.

Lucifer’s perfectly rouged lips curled into a devilishly handsome smile as his thickly lash-fringed, pale, almost lavender eyes followed Ciel’s approach with rapt attention, curious and interested. His long, inky black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, tied with a deep violet silk ribbon that contrasted most attractively with the pure white suit that fit his frame perfectly, the fabric wrapped around long limbs and lithe torso deliciously. A unique lavender rose that matched his equally unique eye colour was pinned pristinely to his lapel and his posture and confident gait only added to the overall loveliness of the fallen angel’s human form. 

He stepped into Ciel’s way, offering the young man a stout crystal tumbler of fine scotch as he greeted the mortal charmingly, voice like warm silk, “Forgive my boldness Lord Phantomhive, but you looked as if you could use a good _stiff_ one. Would it be too inappropriate to say that though I came to pay my _respects_ to your dearly departed father, I’ve been completely taken with you since I first laid eyes on you? I’ve been waiting all afternoon to get you away from the vultures and introduce myself properly. Lucien Brkai, it’s truly a pleasure to finally meet you.” He offered one manicured hand to the young man, smile broadening in amusement as the raven on Ciel’s shoulder ruffled its feathers and hissed warningly at him. The reigning prince of hell was unconcerned and undeterred by the display, having expected as much from his little brother’s favourite pet… How cute, really…

Ciel took the stranger’s hand hesitantly, absolutely appreciative of the man’s refinement and allure, but baffled by his own inattention- how had he failed to take notice of him prior to his introduction? “Lucien, was it? I daresay your bold _fascination_ is no more inappropriate than the innuendo you led with,” Ciel said, nodding towards the drink he’d still not accepted; he had learned his lesson about accepting drinks from strangers some days ago. “Sorry, I’m considered underage to be drinking, especially out in public,” he answered arrogantly, turning minutely to shush and soothe the distressed familiar at his shoulder with his free hand.

Lucifer chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement. The young exorcist really was quite the cheeky little mortal. He could certainly see the allure. So entertaining… “That’s a shame… Perhaps we’ll have a drink in private some other time.” He inclined his head and sipped the drink himself instead since Ciel had turned it down, hiding his knowing smile behind the rim of the glass. He licked his lips idly as he pulled the glass away from his mouth once again, eyeing the young man as he shushed the upset bird. “What an _adorable_ pet you have. Have you had him long?”

“Having pets is one thing Lucien, garnering their unswerving obedience and devotion is quite another,” Ciel said, looking at Poe fondly while ignoring both the offer for a drink at a later time as well as the question about the length of time he’d owned the bird, regarding both with a certain amount of ennui considering how completely enticing the stranger was. He found himself staring too long into the pale lavender of this acquaintance’s eyes and it took hearing Soma’s shriek of mirth as he spoke to Lizzie a short distance away for rational thought to return to him; and that was when the idea struck him. The man, this _Lucien_ might not be whom he said he was at all, he might in fact be _Snake_ ; Soma _had _said the individual would be obvious, would seek him out… “But speak plainly now, are you _really_ interested in my raven,” he asked cocking his head to the side flirtatiously, taking a step boldly in the stranger’s personal space, his body brushing up against the crisp white ensemble, contrasting his own charcoal one, “Or should we find a more private area to become better acquainted?”__

__One fine brow rose as Ciel pressed in closely to Lucifer and the little human’s rather salacious words filtered through what little space remained between them. He smiled disarmingly, head tilting slightly closer towards the young man to speak next to Ciel’s ear, “It’s not so much your raven that interests me, but yourself, my lovely little lord and the company you choose to keep only piques my curiosity further. I certainly would not be opposed to learning more about you in a more private setting...” He lifted a hand as if to brush his fingers through the young man’s hair, hissing and jerking it back when Poe snapped at his fingertips with his sharp beak, obviously very opposed to the idea of Lucifer becoming intimate with Ciel in any further capacity._ _

__Over the youth’s shoulder, the fallen angel made brief eye contact with a tall, dark skinned woman with short shorn black hair that bore further shaved intricate designs from her temples to her nape and merged into ink on her coffee coloured flesh. Her lips were a deep cherry and her eyes a most hypnotizing and haunting shade of ambered gold. She wore numerous gold bangles about her wrists and neck, hoops lining her ears and rings on all her long, slim fingers, her frame wrapped in a flattering black dress that moved like wind around her. She winked at him and gave a subtle wave before she turned, following the target she had been tasked with, one lovely and grieving blonde woman, the widow Phantomhive, as Rachel made her way into to manor to rest. And once she’d gone, Lucifer’s attention was once again wholly intent on the little mortal boy that had captivated Asmodeus so, frowning most handsomely as he sucked on his smarting fingertip._ _

__“Honestly, Poe,” Ciel admonished the familiar with a glare, shrugging him off his shoulder and shooing it with a dismissive hand. He knew his proximity to this _Lucien_ might irk the demon, and by extension, Poe, but neither knew Ciel’s motivations behind the seductive act he put on to gain the lovely man’s favour. “I’m sorry about that, let me see your hand,” he said, his tone almost purring as he looked at the man from under thick lashes, holding out his own hand. When Lucien complied, Ciel most certainly took notice of the nick there on the pad of the index finger, blood pooling lazily to the surface of the skin. Fantastic, there was no way he’d manage to meet with the animancer after his _pet_ had assaulted the man sent in his stead. The last heir of Phantomhive brought Lucien’s wounded finger to his pouted, blush-coloured lips and pressed them delicately, once, twice and on the third time, gave a shallow suck to the tip, letting the blood stain his lips with a sweet taste embellished by a hint of tartness, not unlike black cherries. _Delicious,_ Ciel thought, as he licked his lips, his heart beating a little more erratically than it had moments ago. “Very well, if you’re still willing, there is a gazebo outback that should be private enough…”_ _

__Lucifer had a charming and almost smug smirk on his lips as Ciel shooed away the ruffled raven that perched itself not so far away on the post of a wrought iron fence and glared reproachfully at them. It only broadened when the young man’s lips and tongue made contact with his skin and he answered silkily, “More than willing, lead the way my dear.”_ _

__Ciel threw the dark-haired man a beguiling smile and walked in the direction few had wandered up to until now. Due to the amount of individuals that spoke at the funeral, it was much later in the day than it should have been and the sun was starting to set behind the cover of the miscellaneous conifers that flanked the acreage of Phantomhive estate. There would still be enough light, but only for the next hour with November’s shadows making quick with the daylight hours._ _

__The gazebo stood amidst a small man-made island set in the center of a pond. An ominous fog had begun to rise, its tendrils lapping at the short bridge that linked the main land to the well-maintained structure. They crossed in silence with Ciel leading the way, unable to shake the feeling that the man wasn’t so much tracing his form with his eyes, but devouring it. He smiled to himself, hoping that this would somehow make his task easier._ _

__Reaching their destination, Ciel realized that Poe kept his distance (though not much of one), allowing the young heir and his guest to speak frankly without being overheard. He motioned for Lucien to have a seat, but did not have one himself; instead, he turned away and took off his suit jacket, throwing it on the chair, rolled up his sleeves to reveal pale milky skin and loosened his ascot. He unlaced the knot on his silken eyepatch, letting it fall into his hands and tucking it into his back pocket, then bound his hair with an elastic band he had around his wrist. A man with Lucien’s particular aesthetic, whose blood tasted the way it did and worked for a being capable of creating souls could himself not be human, so he used the covenant etched on his iris as leverage, hoping it would give him a slight advantage._ _

__Lucifer seated himself comfortably, watching the young man with humour behind his pale gaze, finding Ciel’s ministrations to be entirely amusing. Really, what an prideful little human he was… To think the pretty little exorcist actually thought the mar of Asmodeus’ seal in his eye would be threatening somehow. How absolutely _adorable..._ Silly, naive child…_ _

__“I imagine you hear this often, but you have the most captivating eyes,” he said, looking into said eyes intently, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands._ _

__Ciel smirked, advancing on the handsome man, pushing him back, placing a knee between Lucien’s legs on the seat and leaning over him as both his hands gripped the back of the chair. “Literally everything that’s come out of your mouth today has been cliché,” he whispered huskily next to Lucien’s ear. “Enough stalling, tell me what I need to give you for us to get beyond this awkward encounter, Lucien.”_ _

__The fallen angel chuckled breathily, tilting his own head to brush his lips against Ciel’s ear, the scent of lilacs becoming more potent as he spoke his response in a smooth, sultry tone, “That depends little butterfly… What are you willing to offer me?”_ _

__There was a high pitched shriek and the rustle of feathers and flapping wings as Poe dove in and viciously ripped at Lucifer’s long, dark locks, forcing the demon to withdraw from Ciel. He snarled and turned his angry lavender gaze on the offending bird, baring his fangs at it as Poe backed off before he could capture the raven and break its fragile little neck._ _

__Ciel fell back on his rear as the raven dive-bombed the man whose distinguishable fangs and use of _butterfly_ registered as soon as the scent of lilacs permeated the outdoor space. He vaguely remembered the same scent in the hallway last night, except that this one was much more potent; so potent, in fact, that it was approaching repugnancy. Ciel immediately backed off, realizing a little too late that he had foolishly mistook this _man’s_ identity for _Snake’s_. _ _

__Poe hid behind him, his sharp beak pecking at his dress shirt, a clear message for him to back away. Instead, he held his hand out to the man for assistance, clearing his throat, refusing to apologize for the protective measures taken by Sebastian’s familiar, but still unsure at this point what to do about being so isolated from everyone._ _

__Lucifer hummed as he straightened his clothing and hair, schooling his expression into something less frightening before he looked at the young man on the ground. He smiled vaguely as he offered the human his hand in return and pulled him to his feet with little more than feigned effort. “Not to worry. Seems your pet is rather protective of you,” he said smoothly, eying the raven behind Ciel with a knowing behind the pale lavender depths._ _

__Ciel flushed, either out of apprehension or embarrassment - he wasn’t sure, but as he made to reply, he was interrupted by a timid, “Lord Phantomhive?” His head whipped to the right as he watched a man who appeared not much older than himself and whose golden eyes shone in the backdrop of twilight as he neared the gazebo. His movements were fluid and impossibly quiet, which was why Ciel probably hadn’t registered him approaching._ _

__“Yes, it appears to be him, he turned this way Keats,” Snake responded, then changing his pitch to a slightly higher one added, “It’s him, look at the stain on his eye, says Emily.”_ _

__Ciel gaped at him, initially glad for the interruption, but now wondering if he wasn’t safer with Lucien than some multiple personality ward patient; he certainly dressed like one with his thigh-high boots, high-collared jacket with baggy sleeves and… multiple scarves, thickly woven around his neck and shoulders?_ _

__“We must hurry, _he_ does not like to be kept waiting, says Emily,” Snake intonated, entering the gazebo and standing staunchly between the young man he’d been sent to fetch and the demon Wordsworth had so desperately insisted on seeing close up._ _

__Squinting in the near darkness, Ciel could almost make out the scarves moving; no slinking and sliding about the strange man’s torso. Not scarves, _snakes_ ; but who was he to judge when he himself paraded around with a raven? He clapped the eccentric man on the arm (careful not to strike one of his pets), playing at being familiar and friendly to cover up for his earlier gaffe, “Yes, Snake, of course, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time…” He quickly fastened his eyepatch, threw his jacket over his arm and patted his shoulder, summoning Poe as he leaned to the left, smiling at the man who looked positively charming and beatific as he stood there assessing the newcomer. It had Ciel slightly confused and wondering how he’d become apprehensive of him in the first place, “Lucien, it was a pleasure, but business calls… I hope to be seeing you again.”_ _

__Lucifer’s lashes lowered and he smiled disarmingly, inclining his head and bowing slightly at the waist. He watched as Ciel left with the half-breed abomination, still smiling though it had turned sharp and a tad vicious, “The pleasure was all mine little butterfly,” he breathed, idly playing with a lock of his dark hair, “We’ll be seeing each other again, you can count on it.” He then turned on his heel, disappearing into the night in a rustle of feathers, leaving only the lingering scent of lilacs in his wake._ _

____

***

Once they were out of what Snake assumed to be the demon’s earshot, he slowed his pace to match the smaller man’s, “Wordsworth says if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from that _man_.”

“What? The poet said that?” Ciel asked skeptically and recoiled as he was hissed at by a what appeared to be a small boa-typed serpent emerging from Snake’s jacket. “So, not the poet then...” 

Snake rolled his eyes and ran two fingers lovingly down the length of Wordsworth’s body, eyeing the young heir and his raven suspiciously. He knew what it was the young man was after, but given his choice of companion, he wondered if helping him was in his mate’s best interest. Feeling his doubting unease, Emily draped herself more securely around his neck; it wasn’t his place to call into question his mate’s decisions, his was to collect payment from his clients and escort them.

“We must speak of payment, says Keats,” Snake said, holding his hand out to the young man while Emily slithered and twined resolutely down his arm and back up again. 

“Of course,” Ciel stammered at the man’s abruptness. He was used to doing business with people, and there was a certain amount of repartee involved (he recalled with some embarrassment how he’d conducted himself with Lucien), but Snake had cut to the chase. That was fine, he wanted to get this part over with. From within the deep pocket of the jacket he held over his arm, he pulled out the ancient metal spike wrapped in a silk kerchief. “And this guarantees me what? A meeting with your master?” 

Snake scoffed, his voice becoming almost acidic “Did you hear that, Wordsworth, the Phantomhive boy called him _Master_?” The serpent, Wordsworth, undulated and contracted its muscles to further distance itself from the impertinent little lord and spat, “He’s not a master, but a _Mate_ , an equal, says Wordsworth.” 

“I see,” responded Ciel, unabashed by his blunder. “And my payment will grant me…” 

“ _This_ bounty will grant you _nothing_ , says Emily,” Snake responded as Emily stretched from his arm and flicked its tongue over the concealed object, picking up the tiniest particles and reporting back to him as she wound herself back around his neck, nuzzling his shaggy white hair.

Ciel halted his step, “What do you mean _this_ will grant me nothing?” When Snake stopped to look at him, he held the relic out, uncovering it for the man to see. “You _do_ know what this is, don’t you?”

“He knows, says Keats.” 

“Then you know it’s quite a divine artifact, it could probably fetch quite a bit of …” Ciel began before Snake put his hand over his mouth to silence him. 

“My mate is not interested in its monetary value and is quite able to obtain his own divine objects, Phantomhive,” Snake snarled, narrowing his golden eyes. “How small of you to assume this is of any worth to him when you carry something of much greater value, says Emily.” He watched said serpent lazily make its way down his arm, then without notice, coil itself six times around the heir’s wrist and constrict its muscles forcing him to let go of the artifact. 

“Get it off me!” Ciel shouted at Snake, shaking his arm. If it didn’t hurt so much, he would have found it proper retribution for Poe’s treatment of Lucien. And how was it that the raven which had been so violently protective of him when the stranger had whispered in his ear was now only sitting by watching with disinterest as his arm was being strangled by a snake? 

“Ease your grip,” Snake told Emily, and it did immediately, but instead of retreating back to his own body, made its way up the young man’s arm, and around his neck to come down the other side, flicking its tongue again, smelling him. 

Ciel froze, closing his eyes and held his breath; it wasn’t that he was _frightened_ of snakes per se, but having one about his person so intimately was somewhat unnerving. The raven finally reacted, digging its talons into his shirt and shoulder as it beat its wings frantically, trying to intimidate the serpent, but Emily kept steady. 

“Call off the familiar, says Wordsworth, or we will end this discussion.”

Ciel finally let out his breath, and slowly brought his arm up to calm the bird, wincing as it continued to add pressure to his now exposed flesh. He felt the blood trickle from the shallow wound and wet his shirt and he gently forced the bird’s head down to it, to distract him from the proximity of the snake. 

“See Wordsworth, you need only ask the little lord, and he will oblige, says Keats” Snake told the serpent as it descended to the earth and started circling the heir and the artifact. “The proper payment is on his person, says Emily,” then added, “Shall I obtain it?” 

“What are you talking about? _That_ is the payment!” Ciel said, still unmoving as he nodded to the ground where Wordsworth had begun unhinging its jaw to fit the spike in his mouth. “Wait! What’s it doing?”

“Disposing of it of course, says Keats.” And the serpent swallowed it whole; the muscles of its body pushing it back under the scales. “Emily says that she will bite if you move, now stay still,” Snake instructed calmly. 

Ciel’s eyes widened as the serpent Emily’s mouth opened and locked itself around his third shirt button from the top and snapped its head to the right. The button gave way, and no sooner, the snake poked its head into the space left by the gap. Cool scales fondled the small raised hairs of Ciel’s chest as he felt a sharp tug and clasped the back of his neck when the snake reemerged with a small vial attached to a leather string. Before he could so much as make a grab for the possession being torn from him, Emily had made her way back onto her master’s shoulders, depositing the small bottle into his hands. 

“ _This_ is worth something, Keats says,” Snake hummed, impressed, examining the glass container up against the light of the ascending blood red moon. To common mortal eyes, the oil that licked the walls therein like silk caressing skin would appear a shiny black substance, and though it looked opaque, his knowing golden eyes saw the spectrum of light pierce the particles, giving them the illusion of glowing crystals, or mimicking the way nebula shone in universes far away. 

“It’s not worth anything to anyone but me!” Ciel argued vehemently, trying to reign in his temper, fearful it would lose him the meeting he’d been anticipating for nearly a decade. 

“That’s not true, says Wordsworth,” Snake answered uncorking the small bottle and bringing it in proximity of his tongue, smelling the essence from within. In no time at all, the three serpents also had their fill of the scent and seemed more agitated for it. “Yes, so sweet and tender, says Emily.” Snake nodded in agreement. “This feather was not taken, but freely given, and sealed with a demon’s love and protection; very valuable indeed, says Keats.” 

Ciel looked at them, horrified, a hand over his solar plexus where the vial had hung all day, reassuring with its heat. He’d stolen away to his father’s office after breakfast, ordering Poe to fetch Sebastian’s latest gift and to meet him there through the open window. He’d pressed the feather and reduced the product to a resin, holding it over a chalice of boiled holy oil he’d obtained from Jerusalem. Of all the tokens of love he’d received from Sebastian, it had been his most treasured, and while he had changed its chemical composition, it could not be helped if he wanted to keep it on his person at all times. “It’s a gift that I’m unwilling to part with,” Ciel declared, firmly holding his hand out for its return. 

“And that’s precisely why he’ll want it, isn’t it Wordsworth?” Snake asked his serpent, who bobbed its head in response. “What do you say, lord Phantomhive, this payment for a meeting with my mate?” 

Ciel pursed his lips and crossed his arms, considering the negotiation and not at all pleased by what had come to pass, glancing to the bird perched on his shoulder. Poe bobbed his head as if giving permission before he began preening his right wing meticulously. “Fine,” Ciel seethed, reminding himself that it would be worth the sacrifice, “Where is he?” 

Snake gave a small bow and started walking south again, “Follow me, says Keats.” 

Ciel did as was told and didn’t question the man even when they got to the small chapel that had been built on the periphery of their property some few hundred years ago. The feeling of contamination and taint that had lingered on him since his childhood had assured his avoidance of both the structure and a relationship with god, though he knew that one day, he would be forced into both as had his father before him. 

Snake noticed the boy’s hesitation as they reached the double arched doors of the chapel, “He’s in here, says Emily,” before the serpent made its way to the ground and slithered under the door. The snake charmer barely put his hand on the lock and it fell to the ground just missing Emily’s head as it made its way back outside and up its master’s body again. “Go to the back of the chapel and into the left confessional, says Emily.” 

Minutes went by before Ciel realized he’d not moved from where he stood. In fact, it wasn’t until he felt Snake’s hands on his back, pushing him forward as the doors blew open, giving him passage. “Wait!” he protested. “I know I’ve sinned plenty, but I’m not repentant… not at all, so confession is pointless for me…”

“Wordsworth said your time has already begun, my lord, you’re wasting it,” Snake said pushing on the small man’s back with some effort. “This won’t do, says Emily,” as two of the three serpents wound themselves around the boy’s feet, tripping him up and sending him toppling onto his backside as his raven beat its wings, refusing to go down with him. They pulled forward with unseen speed, while their master picked him up from under his armpits and dragged him into the darkness of the small chapel. The doors slammed behind them, leaving the raven squawking and indignant outside.

***

Sebastian was pacing, growling and snarling, soot-tipped fingers tearing at his own hair as his feathered wings ruffled and shifted anxiously, shedding feathers that fell and became ash behind him as he moved back and forth over the length of his cage. He could only see through the eyes of his familiar and it was painful. He knew Lucifer would make an appearance; his elder sibling had assured him of as much. He could not hope to protect Ciel in his current state and trapped as he was, especially with the added confinement Lucifer had been so _kind_ as to add to his cage. Even if Ciel called for him, he didn’t know if he would be able to break through the barrier in his weakened form.

His skin was still pulsing, muscles twitching and spasming as the poison coursed through him, aching and stubborn in his blood, webbed like shattered onyx under his pale flesh. He held the vial of Ciel’s blood in his unoccupied hand, prepared to ingest it in the hopes of speeding his recovery, but hesitating until he saw Ciel make contact with the older fallen angel. His mate had no idea whom he was flirting with. It was so clear from how Ciel was behaving and damn Lucifer for his tricks. The raven’s connection with him became blurry and distorted at intervals, showing him only snippets of his brother and his mate’s interaction. He uncorked the vial and swallowed the precious blood with a low sound of pleasure, the warmth and power that the bittersweet essence provided leaving him a little dizzy for long moments as it filtered through him, soothing away the aching the poison had left, calming the tremors and relieving the painful searing tension. 

The reprieve was short lived though as his coherency returned and he watched as Lucifer moved to touch… A violent snarl sounded, followed by more growls, hissing and the sizzling of flesh as he viciously tore at the bars keeping him from his mate. He could only take solace in the fact that his familiar was there to at the least provide some deterrent and hopefully warning for his naive butterfly. He hardly felt the burning of his skin against the markings on his cell, his attention focused solely on what he could see through the eyes of his raven, muddled and cloudy as it was. 

He was only somewhat further relieved when Ciel and Lucifer’s encounter was interrupted by another unexpected guest. The silver haired young man was familiar, but Sebastian was too strung out on adrenaline and concern to properly recall why that was, only having the capacity to sense that he was no human either, but he did not seem as much a threat as his brother had been. And it seemed the newcomer was someone Ciel had expected, welcomed even, which was suspicious enough on its own, but at least he seemed safer with the serpent clad young male than his previous company. 

The inhuman youth led Ciel to the chapel and Sebastian could smell the subtle but familiar scent of white Oleander and nightshade as his familiar was shut out of the building. He knew the scents, knew to whom they belonged and understood why his raven had been shut out. What he didn’t understand was what Ciel wanted with Death, the reaper king that had abandoned his throne for freedom long ago. He was acquainted with the elder being, rather well, or perhaps not _well_ , but they had a mutual respect and had known one another for a number of millenia. Even so, it irked him to have no eyes to be sure his master was safe and sound, and trust was so difficult to come by these days. 

He called his raven back to him unconsciously, laying back against the far wall of his cage and curling in on himself, wrapping his arms firmly about his bent knees and his wings about himself for comfort. Poe returned to him swiftly, slipped through barred windows and the iron pillars of his cage with the secret whispered softness of feathers, and came to him. “Speak. How is he?” he commanded as the raven ducked beneath his larger wings and wormed its way into his lap. 

“Stubborn like always. He pines, but runs, hides like prey,” Poe replied, bobbing his head and watching his master with twin garnet eyes as Sebastian met his gaze and listened, “He’s named me as he named you. He’s been kind to me, to you. You must be forgiven even if he does not admit it yet.”

“We’ll see. I likely don’t deserve reconciliation.”

“Hope master. He’d not have said redemption in heaven’s tongue if he had not meant it to be so in his soul.”

Sebastian hummed, but didn’t respond further, dark-lacquered fingertips rubbing idly over the bird’s head and between his wings as his mind began to wander. Perhaps Poe was right. It’d been so long since he’d had faith; perhaps it was time he found some and what better place to put it than in Ciel.

Chapter 14 Blooper Reel

*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Lizzie’s Bedroom) Take One*

**Poe _(weaving back and forth aggressively)_ :** Come at me bitch. I’ll make my nest out of your hair.

**Lizzie _(fending against Poe with a pillow)_ :** What the fuck?! What’s your fucking problem? Get the hell out of my bed!

**Poe:** Back off my master’s butterfly. He’s not interested in your downstairs bits! Plumbing’s all wrong!

**Lizzie _(Irately offended)_ :** Ciel!! Do something!

**Ciel _(doubled over, laughing silently and unable to speak for several long seconds)_ :** … Nevermore…

_Cut!_

 

*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Ciel’s Ensuite) Take Five*

**Ciel _(looking at Poe)_ :** Enjoying the view, pervert? 

**Poe _(snorts)_ :** Be better if you were bent over… Master sees what I see, remember?

_Cut! >_

_*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Thirteen*_

__(Ciel returns from Lizzie’s room to find Sebastian in his bed, only he’s changed his appearance to something wholly repulsive... It will take hours for Ciel to get hard again and sets back filming of future scenes.)_ _

_**Sebastian _(disguised as Ciel’s mom with slimy tentacles)_ :** Come on Oedipus, give mama a kiss._

_**Ciel _(between bouts of violent vomiting in the nearest potted plant)_ :** Dear God, I’ll never be able to have sex again. What is WRONG with you?!_

_**Sebastian:** Apologies butterfly, but I did it for us. We get the day off since you can't do any other scenes. I'll make it up to you. Meet me in the coffin at midnight. You’ll forget all about this, I promise._

_**Director:** Cut!! What the hell is this Sebastian?! You aren’t even in this damn scene! _

_*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Breakfast- Phantomhive Dining Room) Take Eighteen*_

__(After feeding Poe, Ciel finds Soma already stuffing his face in the dining room and sits next to him to be served a black vanilla-flavoured tea from Sri Lanka and a buttered crumpet.)_ _

_**Ciel:** So? _

_**Soma _(rubbing the back of his neck, looking awkwardly at anything but Ciel)_ :** What were you really doing in the shower when I interrupted?_

_**Ciel _(almost choking on his food, then clearing his throat)_ :** That’s not part of the script._

_**Soma:** We’re not filming yet_

_**Ciel:** Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything, Soma. Just showering. _

_**Soma:** The raven said you were "waxing the salami". Why would you do that in a shower, though Ciel? Isn't’ that a little unsanitary? _

_**Ciel _(blushing)_ :** The raven is lying to you. _

_**Soma:** That’s why I asked Lizzie about it, and she said that you were actually "double-clicking the mouse", which is actually more confusing and worrisome because you really shouldn’t bring technology into the water Ciel, it could be very dangerous. _(he pulls something out of his pocket)_ She gave me this vibrating egg afterwards, like it should make sense to me… the mouses in the U.S. look nothing like the ones from India though look… How does one even use this with a tablet Ciel? _

_**Ciel _(looks in at Lizzy’s sex toy in disgust)_ :** She’s fucking with you, Soma, give me that… _(Using the napkin he’s placed on his lap, takes it from Soma, calls a butler over to give it to him)_ _

_**Soma:** I thought that, so i asked Rachel…_

_**Ciel:** You asked my mom!?_

_**Soma _(nods solemnly)_ :** Your mother is an honorable woman, Ciel, she would not purposefully lead me astray. And so, she told me that you were "beating up the cyclops" and gave me this, to give to you _(he pulls out a bottle of lube)_ , but I still don't’ understand Ciel, because I have read Percy Jackson, and you don’t use _(he brings the bottle to his face to read it)_ _pleasure emollient_ to do that. Besides, if it’s "beating the cyclops" you’re doing, you know you can always ask me to help, I’m always up for a good beating..._

_**Ciel _(takes the lube and puts it in his pocket)_ :** I’ll uh, keep that in mind. You just need to stop asking people…_

_**Soma:** Yes, that’s what I thought too, so i made one last inquiry by calling Agni and he simply said that he would show me once his flight comes in tonight. _

_**Ciel:** Thank fuck! Pass the orange juice, won’t you?_

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Vincent’s funeral- Viewing Room) Take Twenty-Two*_

__(The crew opens the casket up in order to put Vincent's body in and finds Ciel and Sebastian half clothed inside.)_ _

_**Sebastian _(attempting to look innocent while his hands a suspiciously hidden in the back of Ciel’s pants)_ :** Uhh, we were just trying to figure out what Undertaker's fascination was with these things._

_**Ciel _(fidgeting)_ :** It's for work... yeah_

_**Director:** Cut! Someone call clean up. We’re going to need to reupholster the damn casket… Again._

_*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Vincent’s funeral- Off-set) Take Twenty-Four*_

__( Will and Grell are newly married and disgustingly lovey dovey. Grell is sitting in Will’s lap and feeding him fruits and bits of scone while making gross kissy sounds and talking about how comfortable it is in his husband’s lap.)_ _

_**Sebastian _(to Ciel under his breath)_ :** That has to be the most disturbing thing I have ever witnessed. My dick just crawled back in._

_**Ciel:** Don’t worry, I’m good at playing hide and seek. I’ll coax it back out soon as the coffin is free again._

__Cut!_ _

_*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Outside- Phantomhive Estate) Take Twenty-Seven*_

_**Ciel _(cocking his head to the side and taking a step into Lucifer’s personal space, his body brushing up against him)_ :** But speak plainly now, are you _really_ interested in my raven, or should we find a more private area to become better acquainted?_

_**Director _(coming between Lucifer and Ciel, pushing them away from one another)_ :** Cut! Cut! This is all wrong, did you not get the last minute revisions?_

_**Lucifer _(raising a suspicious eyebrow)_ :** No… How last minute are they? _

_**Ciel _(holding the script he was handed by the Director’s assistant)_ :** By the looks of it, the revisions are hand-written. _(He reads the revisions written in a familiar hand-writing)_ How does me backing away from Lucifer make sense in this scene? _

_**Lucifer:** How indeed…_

_**Director:** Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say…_

_***_

__(Ciel brings Lucifer’s wounded finger to his lips) ____

___**Director:** No! No! No! Ciel… recent filming laws prohibit us from allowing you to endanger your life by exposing you to blood borne illnesses…_ _ _

___**Ciel:** Uh-huh? Another change of script? _ _ _

___**Director:** Yes, and a change of scenery, we couldn’t afford to keep the gazebo, you’ll be getting better acquainted in…_ _ _

___**Lucifer _(reading the script incredulously)_ :** out by the septic pump? _ _ _

___**Ciel:** No, no, I refuse to do this…  
**Director:** Well that works out splendidly then, because we’ve found a lad your size and with a strikingly familiar resemblance to take your place for this one scene with Lucifer… _(turns to signal for a young man to approach Ciel and Lucifer)_ This is Merde, he’ll be filling in for now…_ _ _

___**Ciel _(smirking as he notices the Director’s soot-tipped fingers)_ :** Very well, meet me in my trailer in two minutes Mr. Director to discuss any further changes to the script. _ _ _

____Cut!_ _ _ _

___*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Outside- Phantomhive Estate) Take Twenty-Nine*_ _ _

___**Ciel _(holding the nail-relic out for Snake to see in the palm of his hand)_ :** This will grant me nothing?_ _ _

____(Snake’s nose wrinkles in disgust and he takes a step back from Ciel)_ _ _ _

___**Ciel:** You _do_ know what this is, don’t you? _(Ciel unwraps the relic then lets it fall to the ground when he notices it’s a sizeable piece of dog shit)__ _ _

___**Lucifer _(Fist bumping with Ashton Kutcher)_ :** You’ve been punked!_ _ _

____Cut!_ _ _ _

___*Scene 14 “Eulogy” (Vincent’s funeral- Viewing Room) End of Shooting*_ _ _

____(Sebastian has been missing for hours. They eventually find him completely blissed out in the coffin filled to capacity with cats. The frustrated trainer takes out a restraining order after threatening bodily harm towards the demon, only to end up with a strange case of chickenpox and a sudden allergy to the cats he trains. Ciel (after popping Benadryl like a boss) steals and sneaks a number of the cats into Sebastian’s trailer later because though he’d never admit it, the demon is damn adorable with the furry critters.)_ _ _ _


	15. Acknowledgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of this chapter: Avoid a remedy that is worse than the disease  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Not Enough by Our Lady Peace ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SZuM9sW-_k&index=98&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [Doubt by Twenty-One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skX_7yUFa98)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grell: Finally, some Bassy!

He could hear them as they entered the chapel, could recognize the whispered steps of his mate and the ever-present husky hiss that made its home in his soft voice. It contrasted rather exceptionally with the heavier and anxious steps and higher pitched, almost petulant tones of their gracious host, the young heir of Phantomhive. Pale, scarred and dark tipped fingers brushed long starlit silvery strands of hair back behind his left ear as the first reaper whose true name, Maltheal, had been forgotten and lost over time, had been changed a thousand times over, but all meant the same, _death_ , the great ender and collector. And even in more recent years, he’d adopted yet another moniker that meant the same; Undertaker leaned forward in the confessional he had concealed himself in for this most intriguing of meetings. 

He’d been waiting such a long time for this particular heir, this particular soul to be reborn to meet its mate. It was bound to be such an epic love story and he’d always been a bit of romantic at heart, especially when it involved the sort of morbid tragedy that these particular beings had between them. The outcome, though most often the same when fated souls found one another, the paths in which they came to that conclusion were always unique in the most intriguing and entertaining of ways, especially when all paths for the pairing of opposing beings should lead to destruction. He was most interested to see how this pair would turn out. He had been watching such a long while, listening to the whispers of the ether too when it suited him and so, had been expecting it when the request to meet with him had been issued through one of Ciel’s colleagues. He already knew what the boy hoped to gain from him and he was more than pleased to play along, curious and excited by the challenge he was about to accept from the adorably naive little mortal. He was already chuckling under his breath as the steps drifted closer.

Ciel was not a stranger to being dragged off to places, at least figuratively; he’d been dragged to Europe for his training, and quite recently dragged back home to take his father’s place, but this literal yanking and pulling down the centre aisle of the chapel was quite another thing altogether. 

“I can walk, thank you very much!” he snapped, still kicking his feet frantically and tilting his head back to glower at Snake. 

“We know you can walk, says Emily,” Snake hushed the testy earl, “But you chose not to, says Keats.”

“I’ll do it now, just let me go.” Ciel huffed as the full weight of his body felt the varnished wooden floor. He got to his feet and dusted himself off, trying to save what little dignity he had left. Without a backward glance at Snake or his pets, he strode the remaining length of the chapel and entered the confessional, impatiently pulling the floor-length red velvet curtains to conceal himself. 

Snake watched with some humour as the Phantomhive boy finally stepped behind the curtain, knowing that in the adjoining confessional, Undertaker was having a good silent laugh. His own feet whispered down the same path the impertinent boy had taken, and he poked his hand through the curtain seeking the cool comfort of his mate’s. Soft, scarred fingers stroked the back of his hand and Snake turned his own sparsely scaled one over to hold out the vial Emily had removed from Ciel to offer it to his lover.

Undertaker ran his nails tenderly over Snake’s smooth scaled palm as he retrieved the vial, humming appreciatively before he lifted the little corked glass to his face. Honeyed green eyes watched the jet almost mercury like substance shift in its confinement, casting an interesting array of dark prisms as he tilted it this way and that curiously. He uncorked it and took a sniff of the contents, a wide smile curling his lips as the scent of both unholy and divine protection wafted through the air. He closed it again and tucked it away in the inner pocket of the robes he was currently wearing, pleased by the payment, near impossible to obtain as rare as it was. 

He shifted on his cushioned seat, crossing one long, slim leg over the other and his hands settled on his knee. He whistled a haunting little tune as he listened to the young man shift anxiously in the booth next to him. His melody came to an end and he winked, the little partition door clattered open abruptly, leaving only the screen between them and Undertaker chuckled as he noted the sharp exclamation that escaped Ciel in response to the unexpected noise. “Lovely evenin’ for a confession, in’t it? Now don’ hold out on me, young master; tell me all yer sins,” he said, pauper’s accent thick behind the teasing words as he greeted the youth who’d asked to meet him.

“I… but that’s not what we're supposed to be...” from the other side of the small partition, Ciel inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, fully aware that he was being toyed with and not appreciating it in the least, especially after his less than ceremonious entrance into the chapel. “Tch, fine. Thieving, masturbating, coveting, not loving god, idolizing false gods, lying, blaspheming, fornicating, not honoring my parents... and I'm gay! You name it, I've done it… all of them and I plan on doing it again, so can we please move on now?"

Undertaker clicked his tongue in response, “S’that really all y’ave t’confess? What ‘bout the things ya actually regret? If ya think hard ‘nough, ‘m sure yu’ll find yer sorry for somethin’,” he wheedled, a chuckle under his breath. The denial in the young man was so potent, he could practically taste it. Ciel was certainly sorry, but not for any of the things he’d listed and it was in that, death found himself quite curious.

“Seriously?” Ciel blinked in rapid succession, suspicious and disbelieving of this individual’s presumption. He moved away from the partition, leaned back against the opposite wall and crossed his legs. He was pretty sure what he’d done wasn’t a sin, strictly speaking; no matter how much he regretted his actions. “I’ll have you know that my parents paid, and continue to pay for me to have routine appointments with the best shrink in Austria. I pay him _double_ that amount to get him to shut up about my non-compliance. And I have less disdain for psychology than I do religion, so...”

Undertaker laughed out loud, the sound of his amusement filtering through the partition. "No doubt no doubt, yer a funny boy, lil Phantom. 'M neither a priest or therapist. I merely enjoy a good story. T’is so hard t’ find anything o’ entertainment when ya've seen as much as me," he replied, leaning in as his chuckles tapered off.

“Fine, let’s get on with it then,” Ciel replied rolling his eyes in the dark of the confessional. Something about the presence in the proximal shriving pew put him ill at ease. “Has my colleague filled you in on the necessary details? Is this something you’ve attempted before?”

The reaper hummed thoughtfully. "I'll admit s'not something I've dabbled much in. Ther's not many who fall in such pure love with unholy creatures that they'd wish fer 'em t'ave a soul. Even rarer still, t' _create_ one fer a being that never 'ad one t' begin with. T'is ever so intriguing. Experimentin's near as entertainin' as a good jest, I say. Did yer dear friend mention I'd be needin some special ingredients fer my recipe?" Undertaker responded, interest and curious enthusiasm bubbling beneath his words as he leaned to peer through the little screened partition separating them, a wide smile on his lips and golden green eyes flickered like candlelight when there was none.

“Wait, what? In love? No!” Ciel answered vehemently, his voice going up an octave, defensively waving his hands in front of himself as he noticed the glimmer of amused eyes through the partition scrutinizing him. “Okay, maybe… but what Seb- the demon and I have is nothing _pure_ … not after everything… Not after what I’ve… But that’s neither here nor there… Listen, I just need to get out of this contract, and this _soul_ should provide the necessary loophole.” He clamped both his hands over his mouth, desperate to shut himself up and to stop rambling. He’d revealed much more than he wanted, but he continued nonetheless, as though relieved that he was finally being honest with someone, “It stands to reason that the addition of a soul to such a being would rewrite his very existence, would it not? The contract would be null and void; my soul remains my own, and he is welcomed to do what he will.” He shook his head; no, that wasn’t right either, “But I don’t want him to do what he wants. I want him with me. I want him to want me, and not because I’ll be a delicious feast, and not out of revenge against my kin or my family, and… damn it.” Ciel ran a hand through his hair, feeling thoroughly flushed by his convoluted logic and contemplating walking out of the confessional to save face. “And my colleague never mentioned anything about any ingredients but I'm sure I've what you need at my London flat; I’ve been collecting relics and divine objects for this very reason.”

“Ther now, y’see ya had somethin’ t’ confess after all, hm, and ya feel better fer it dontchya?” Undertaker said, smiling as he considered the information he’d just received. He chuckled quietly to himself, “Even if I can create the soul fer him, s’possible his body will reject it. Y’don’t think he could love ya without ‘un, s’that the gist o’ it? Well, we’ll just ‘ave to wait ‘n see I s’pose. As fer those ingredients I’d be needin’, I doubt ya’d be ‘avein’ ‘em in yer collection. Ther a rather rare bunch o’ items, see. Some easier t’obtain than others, if ya know where t’ look.” 

He paused for a moment, watching the young man through the screen, his wide smile never wavering on his lips as he brushed his long silvery hair back over his shoulder and shifted that much closer to the partition. He cupped one hand around his mouth and whispered conspiratorially through the little window what he needed from Ciel, “First, the blood o’ the Almighty, second, the freely and sincerely shed tears o’ a devil, lastly and like most difficult t’git, the grace o’ a newborn angel, offered by its host. Ya manage t’ rally dem up, yu’ll git yerself one helluva soul, ya can bet yer arse on tha’.”

Ciel had never been a praying man, but in light of what he had to find, now might be as good a time as any to start. “Right. I definitely don’t have those _objects_ ,” he replied darkly. He didn’t know the first place to start looking for such things; and the one being who could actually help him would likely be dead set against the outcome. Perhaps if he went at it alone, Sebastian might appreciate the efforts, be less resistant to the idea of being supplanted with a foreign soul. “And what of payment?” For the first time, he dreaded asking the question; he’d never worried about not having _enough_ in the past, but this individual was clearly not after monetary compensation. 

“Hmm,” Undertaker hummed as he sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his other arm wrapped loosely around his chest, considering what he wanted in return for his services. Entertainment certainly, but more than that he wanted a front row seat to the main event; he could manage that on his own, but the entertainment itself would be up to the young heir. “A ‘appy endin’,” he finally said, eyes glittering through the partition window.

Ciel sighed, quietly thumping his head against the wall next to the partition window. Possibly more daunting than gathering the eccentric list of ingredients was the payment required by the animancer. Ciel was in no position to promise such a return on that particular investment, and in less a position to understand why _a ‘appy endin’_ would be the recompense the strange man sought. He agreed nonetheless hoping to figure it out along the way, “Very well. And once I’ve gathered the necessary items, how am I to contact you Mr…”

“Undertaker and ya won’ be needin’ t’ look fer me. I won’ be far. I’ll know when ya’ve acquired ‘em, ” the reaper replied, his smile broad and as enigmatic as ever. He leaned in close to the partition once again, murmuring amusedly, “‘Un last piece o’ advice lil Phantom, secrets breed distrust among friends and lovers, ya’d do well t’ remember tha in future.”

After saying his final piece, the tall, slim reaper stood up, reaching a pale hand through the curtains where his mate was waiting. Feeling the cool sensation of Snake’s scaled skin against his own, he hummed pleasantly and weaved his fingers between the other male’s as he allowed the hybrid to draw him out of the confessional. Snake assisted him in putting on his long coat and favourite top hat before he lead them out the back of the chapel and into the night, leaving the heir of Phantomhive with the eerie echoing of his laughter.

***

Ciel trudged back from the chapel, more than slightly disheartened by the monumental task he’d heaved upon his own shoulders and snuck in through the backdoor, hoping to catch his mother before she went to bed. He knocked softly twice before letting himself into his parent’s room and found her sound asleep still in her funeral attire. For the first time since Vincent’s death, he mourned his father's passing because he knew how his absence would be felt by his mother; and despite her fierce independence, and _joie de vivre_ , she would miss his company. He removed her black heeled shoes and stood them off to the side of the bed, then righted her body and tucked her in. She allowed herself to be moved effortlessly and never woke from her slumber. He kissed her forehead, resolving to be a better son.

It took about five minutes to get to the entertainment room on the other side of the estate; once there, he was met by his friends and poured two shots of [ Alice in Wonderland](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvkQvrPFhDQ)by Agni who’d arrived just an hour ago. Ciel watched as Soma backed into the taller man, nestling himself with familiarity into his chest, pleading his khansama to show him how to make the next round of shots. As always, the assistant gave into the prince’s whims and placed his hands securely over his master’s as they shook the Triple Sec, Tequila and Kahlua in the metallic tin. Ciel wasn’t yet too intoxicated to miss the look of utter adoration on the manservant’s face as he watched Soma pour the alcohol onto everything _but_ the shot glasses. Agni bent forward, tucked the long silky plum-purple locks behind his master’s ear to whisper something that made his friend’s breath hitch as his eyes widened, gold trimmed pupils dilating in arousal; something about the interaction made Ciel ache with longing.

Lizzie must have noticed his unease, because she brought him a pontarlier glass of Absinthe and when _that_ wasn’t sufficiently distracting, handed him a mic, found a karaoke channel on Youtube and cast it to the eighty-five inch Sony television. He declined the first five songs, but after he’d finished his glass of Absinthe, joined her for a very drunk rendition of [ Paradise by the Dashboard Light](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C11MzbEcHlw) while Soma danced on the billiards table, Grand Marnier bottle in hand.

Somewhere between Soma and Agni’s [ Islands in the Stream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQW7I62TNOw) duet, and Lizzie’s loose interpretation of [ Wannabe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJLIiF15wjQ) Ciel fished out a couple joints for them, and leaned back in the leather club chair trying in vain to bury the longing and regret that was steadily resurfacing since his discussion with Undertaker. He'd told himself (and Lizzie) that he'd talk to the demon after Vincent’s funeral, but he couldn't bring himself to go down there just yet. Even with the liquid courage he'd ingested, and the headiness of the pot’s potency, he found himself both dreading and pining for the encounter.

“I'm hungry!” Soma exclaimed, yanking a stone cold sober Agni to his feet, effectively pulling Ciel from his contemplation. “Let’s get some McDonald's!” 

“It’s like an hour from the estate!” Ciel exclaimed with slurred incredulity, but the more he thought about the fatty, disgusting food, the more his mouth watered, “But totally worth it- let’s go!” He pulled Agni along with Soma, their steps faltering and weaving along the way to the garage as Lizzie walked ahead of them on the tips of her toes, occasionally embellishing her walk with a demi-plié, a pirouette or a grand jeté.

Going through drive-thru was, in Agni’s opinion, an absolute nightmare; no it was worse, like he’d been thrown into _Naraka_ awaiting his final judgement. Soma was leaning over him shouting at the console, Ciel standing on the backseat and demanding a child's grilled cheese sandwich with tomatoes, bacon and other nonsense from the sunroof and Lizzie was half-hanging out of the window behind him squawking her own order. 

Agni apologized profusely to the overnight worker who had given up on listening to them and then parked the Land Rover in a nearby spot. He watched as the inebriated friends stumbled into the restaurant, Lizzie pulling them towards the Happy Meal toy display case. They left ten minutes later, Happy Meals in hand, Ciel having purchased _all_ the Littlest Pet Shop toys due to his dissatisfaction with the cat ears headband he'd found in his brightly coloured box.

The khansama gave a sigh of relief when the car was filled with a profound silence as they all tucked into the grease-filled culinary abortions, trusting that it would sober them up quickly. His hopes were blighted once they’d finished eating since his master turned in his seat to offer Ciel and Lizzie miniatures he’d no doubt taken from the small refrigerator in the entertainment room. The boisterousness was renewed in the vehicle and was back in full-swing the moment they’d returned to Phantomhive Manor, leading to an impromptu game of drunken hide-and-seek when Lizzie began counting in the garage. 

“Lizzie always cheats when she counts” Ciel told them a little too loudly as he staggered down the hallway, past the kitchen and basement door and into his father’s study, “so you have to hurry up.” He looked around the office for a decent place to hide as Agni playfully threw Soma into the closet and made a sound as though pretending to lock it. He put a bandaged finger to his lips, winking at Ciel as a smile spread across his handsome face.

“Oh no, my lord… It seems the door has locked itself.” He put his weight against it, securing the handle steadily that even as Soma tried to turn it from behind the door, it did not budge. 

“Oh, Kali, no! Agni, help me!” Soma wailed as his fists beat repeatedly against the wooden panel. 

Ciel watched the scene unfold, bent at the waist, snorting his laughter into his hands as his friend’s fingers poked through under the door, reaching and searching for assurance.

“Alright, I’ll go fetch some help,” Agni informed him, as he took a knee and brushed the desperate fingers with a gentleness Ciel placed somewhere between veneration and reverence. 

“Agni, don’t leave me. Please! Send Ciel. Ciel? Are you there? Go get me some help, Ciel!”

“Sure,” Ciel called out to Soma, looking around the room, still trying to find somewhere to hide himself, but given how loud his friend was being, he would no doubt draw Lizzie into the study before long. He waved to Agni to get his attention and nodded towards the door to let him know he was leaving, but as he was about to turn the corner, he heard Agni open the closet door, and watched as Soma fell out of the closet into his servant’s arms.

“My prince, I would never leave your side willingly; the heavens could no sooner be torn from the sun.” Ciel starred as the servant drew in his charge, holding and caressing him as though he were the most important person in the world, then leading them both back into the closet, he shut the door behind with a quiet click. Ciel left the room soundlessly soon after, offerings in his pockets and securing his headband in place, suddenly very determined to make amends with his demon.

***

There was a soft rustling as the demon shifted, unfurling from his curled position, great black plumed wings spreading almost hopefully as the sound of the heavy door being opened came from the top of the staircase. Scarlet feline eyes narrowed swiftly as the sconces lining the way to his cage abruptly lit, casting thick shadows with their profound brightness after days without. Sebastian was slow in getting to his feet, cautious even though he could smell his butterfly, knew that Ciel had finally come to see him. But he couldn’t be sure of his mate’s forgiveness and so he was hesitant to step out from the shadows at the back of his confinement, lingering there until Ciel would beckon him.

It was with great difficulty in his inebriated state that Ciel finally fit the correct key properly in the lock that barred the entrance to the basement. Once the door was shut firmly behind him and he slid the latch to lock it from the inside, he sat there on the top step, reconsidering his decision. His right leg bounced nervously as his breath came in quick spurts. It was too quiet. Eerily so. His descent would be too loud. He loosened his tie more than it already was, then took it off altogether, tying it to a belt loop located at the back of his trousers; a tail to match his cat ears. 

Not at all trusting his footing, he went down the stairs on his bottom, until he got to where the room opened up. As usual, the cage was suspended in the darkest corner of the damp room, the light within the basement casting shadows that made it impossible to see who occupied the cage. Of course Ciel knew, but the demon’s refusal to meet him at the bars was ominous and the kitten-costumed youth fought the desire to flee once more as he rubbed sweaty palms against his pants. 

Maybe he would say nothing. Just leave his own gifts and go back upstairs. That was probably for the best. Wanting to be stealthy, he got on his hands and knees and slinked against the wall until he got under the cage. Digging through his pockets, he wordlessly withdrew a little orange tabby figurine he’d procured at McDonald’s, and twisting his arm awkwardly, he stood it between two bars, facing the general direction where he thought Sebastian would see it best. He did the same with the blue cat, the black cat, the pink cat, the white cat and the brown cat; then when he was done, came out from under the demon’s confinement and up onto his knees, poking his faux-furry kitten ears and curious eyes just over the cage’s floor, wanting only to catch a glimpse of his lover.

Glittering sanguine eyes followed each small movement as his mate set the little feline figurines in a little row at the edge of his cage and he had no awareness or control of the smile that curled over his lips as he caught sight of the pointed ears perched atop his lover’s head and vibrant blue eyes rimmed in thick, plush lashes peering into the shadows where he remained obscured. Sebastian was relieved that the young man was unharmed, albeit apparently inebriated from the scent of him, but whole and beautiful as ever. 

Sebastian was silent as he finally moved forward into the light, his wings shuffling and casting long fingered shadows as he moved, the long leathery coil of his spade-tipped tail swaying ever so slowly as if still hesitant to give away his elation. He was more than pleased to see his precious mate. It felt as if it had been ages and through the eyes of his familiar, Ciel’s loveliness was not done proper justice and even longer still since he had held him, though it’d only been a night and day since then. Soot tipped fingers reached out as if to caress the ears adorning the young man’s head, but hesitated inches from touching them. “I was afraid you might never come butterfly… And these...” he gestured at the adorable little toys, “Gifts for me? How did you know I adored felines so?”

Ciel bumped his head into the demon’s touch, craving it, but not meeting his gaze; his own shame for the part he played in their conflict was so potent that he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep it from trembling. He simply nodded in response to the demon’s question.

Sebastian hummed, long fingers tenderly carding through Ciel’s hair, careful not to dislodge the eared headband he was wearing, finding it quite endearing and perhaps just a little seductive on his mate. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve missed you sweetling?”

“I want to,” Ciel mewled, “But I'm not deserving of it.” He swallowed as he caught Sebastian's soft, familiar hand and brought it down to his own cheek to lean into it affectionately.

Sebastian hummed, "Deserving or not, it doesn't make it less true my precious butterfly. Even if you ordered it of me, I should not have let my envy get the best of me. I hurt you and made our bond sick," he replied in a soft tone, thumb stroking over Ciel's flushed cheek adoringly.

Ciel turned his head to press warm, pouted lips against the long fingers; trying to think around the fogginess of his insobriety, intoxicated by the alcohol, Sebastian’s words and the taste of him. He frowned and pulled away a moment. “But you made it better, it was _you_ wasn't it? What did _that_ cost you?” he asked his voice more accusatory than the situation warranted.

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, watching his mate keenly, finally stepping further into the light. The inky veins that webbed beneath his porcelain skin had faded significantly since he’d consumed Ciel’s blood, but they were still visible in the light, the worst of it spreading up from the contract staining his left hand. More of his inhuman features were visible as well, still unsettled after his body had absorbed the poison, ears pointed, feline eyes that glowed ethereally, elongated nails and razored fangs, his wings and finally the newest edition of his tail which drifted between the bars of his cage to coil firmly around Ciel’s wrist. “You are worth the cost sweetling, any cost, you must know that. I’m already recovering after you sent me such a precious gift earlier. I’ll be fine by morning, so you needn’t fret butterfly,” he murmured, kneeling down in his cage so that he could be as close as possible to his mate, while avoiding the searing bars that separated them from one another.

Ciel stood to meet Sebastian’s gaze, when wave after wave of nauseating guilt washed over him as the weight of his transgressions was made obvious by his lover’s appearance. The need to touch him and erase the violence that had painted itself on his once flawless skin was so great; and yet, Sebastian was no less beautiful for it, even with the pain visibly etched on his body in the faded reticulations of his less than human facade. “Then I’ll stay with you until that time, because…” he paused, “...since I am to blame,” he explained walking to the small desk and rummaging through the top drawer. He’d meant to say, _because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be_ , and he wasn’t sure why it hadn’t just come out; he _was_ trying to be honest, at least with himself. He found the cast brass skeleton key, and for good measure, dragged the three-legged wooden stool back to Sebastian’s confined space. Unlocking the door, he pulled it open and heaved the stool, pushing it towards the demon, but struggling to get himself up as the cage stood just over four feet off the floor. “Help?” he asked, extending an arm as he tried to wiggle himself up on his belly, feet dangling below.

Sebastian couldn’t help the amused chuckle that rumbled silkily in his chest as he watched his mate attempt to pull himself up into his cage, uncoordinated in his inebriated state. The demon easily picked him up and brought him inside. The abrupt leveling out unbalanced Ciel and he ended up toppling Sebastian over; he hadn’t been expecting it. Even so, Sebastian caught the young man and steadied him as his wings curved in around them. He chuckled again as he righted the cat ears on Ciel’s head, looking at him fondly. “And after that time? Will you still stay with me butterfly?” he questioned, idly brushing back stray strands of navy from Ciel’s face so he could better see him.

“Mhmm…” Ciel hummed against his demon’s skin, nuzzling against his chest, bunting and rubbing his face suggestively, felinely and filling with relief when the low rumble there communicated Sebastian’s comfort. “Did you mean it?” he purred, “When you said _no more_?”

“You remember?” Sebastian questioned, more to himself than to the young man, long fingers threading through Ciel’s hair and stroking against his scalp affectionately. He let a soft sigh slip between his lips as his wings shifted around them, “I meant it. We can’t continue as we’ve been butterfly; we’ll only hurt the bond again and I won’t have it. We must have trust between us.”

Pouting, Ciel tilted his head trying to discern any humour in Sebastian’s face, and though he had kitty cat ears on his head, his eyesight was nowhere near a feline’s especially when the wings obscured what little light was in the basement. “Everything about that night is so… fuzzy; I was hoping I’d remembered wrong.” He crawled over the demon with a little sensuous slide of his chest against Sebastian’s exposed one, his head dipping into his mate’s neck, small tongue kissing and lapping the skin affectionately and nuzzling close enough to Sebastian’s ear to breathe, “Can’t we discuss that tomorrow?”

Sebastian rumbled a low growl that was both warning and pleased, skin heating beneath the touch of his mate’s mouth and body against his own. He slid his hands down Ciel’s back, kneading at his shoulder blades and lower as he answered huskily, “We should discuss it now sweetling, before you tempt me any further.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal Sebastian…” Ciel started, the entrepreneur in him taking over, even in his intoxicated state, “We’ll discuss, whatever it is that’s on your mind, if you can resist giving into your desires.” He sat back up, pressing his rear against his mate to make his intentions clear.

The demon’s feline eyes narrowed, glinting in the low light and he shifted beneath Ciel, the hardness of his arousal obvious against the young man’s backside, but he did nothing more. His hands slipped to Ciel’s hips, gripping lightly, tail curling and uncurling just over the floor next to him restlessly. “You shouldn’t be so keen to make such wagers butterfly. You’re likely to be disappointed by the outcome, but I’ll let you have your way. Seduce me,” he said, voice dropping into a silky lilt as he watched the youth seated in his lap.

Chapter 15 Blooper Reel

*Scene 15 “Acknowledgement” (Chapel Confessional)*

_(Sebastian and Undertaker are cramped inside the priest’s side of the confessional, Sebastian leaning back against the wall beneath the partition window, long limbs bent and resting lazily while Undertaker lays upside down on the cushioned seat, head tilted back and feet crossed at the ankles propped against the back of the confessional. They pass a large joint back and forth between one another, blowing smoke rings and chuckling at intervals, effectively hotboxing the small compartment.)_

**Undertaker _(squinting at joint)_ :** I’m right ripped I am. What blends’this? Some o’ that what they call it, hydroponic?

**Sebastian _(deadpan)_ :** Angelic…

_(Undertaker bursts out laughing and Sebastian’s lips twitch, forcibly restraining his smirk.)_

**Undertaker _(wiping his eyes and passing the joint back to Sebastian)_ :** I always knew you weren’t growing just roses up in Eden.

**Sebastian _(blowing out a cloud of smoke and watching it curl around the ceiling) _:__** __Well once you’ve seen one pair of mortals fucking, you’ve seen them all. I had to do _something_ to pass the time while they were populating.  
_(They both quiet abruptly when they hear someone step into the other confessional and begin speaking. Vincent Phantomhive sits in the opposite compartment, wringing his bald cap in his hands as he begins the ingrained greetings of confession. Sebastian and Undertaker make eye contact and share a wicked grin. Sebastian puts out the joint and flicks the partition open.)__ _

__**Vincent:** Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It’s been some days since my last confession. _ _

__**Undertaker _(sounding strikingly like the blue caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland)_ :** Why am I not surprised? Well get on with it then._ _

__**Vincent _(trying to place the scent of the incense wafting through the open partition, familiar, but it had been a long time since he’d last smelled it. He was sure Ciel would know; his room had smelled like it any time he’d been home in the past several years.)_ :** In the past month since my son has been home, I’ve taken to using his laptop after he’s gone to bed… _(he shifts in his seat uncomfortably)__ _

__**Undertaker _(putting a finger to his lips when Sebastian fails to stifle a snort)_ :** Oh…? And just what have you been Googling my son?_ _

__**Vincent** Nothing. But I found an interesting bit of… literature on his computer, I think he called it _fanfic_ , it did _things_ to me, Father. I’m ashamed to say that I could not stop myself from… _ _

__**Undertaker _(grinning widely while Sebastian covers his mouth with a hand to muffle his building laughter, shaking his head vaguely)_ :** From? Come now, don’t leave me in suspense._ _

__**Vincent** From… Self-flagellating… multiple times… in one evening. I even printed the damned thing out and keep a copy of it between the mattresses of my marriage bed _(he’s wrung his bald cap so many times it’s now torn into halves)__ _

__**Undertaker _(Also holding a hand over Sebastian’s mouth while quelling his own chuckling, clearing his throat raucously before answering)_ :** I say… Well you can’t really be blamed, fanfic is the tool of the devil. I think two Hail Mary’s, an Our Father, and admitting to your son you love his creative pornographic expression should do the trick._ _

__**Vincent _(Gets up from his seat and awkwardly leaves the confessional at half-mast having been reminded of his son’s work)_ :** Thank you Father. _ _

___(There is a thump as Sebastian kicks the far wall and squirms, half crumpled onto the floor as Undertaker bids Vincent farewell. Seconds later, abrupt laughter can be heard from the confessional.)_ _ _

__**Sebastian _(trying to straighten himself out and a tad breathless)_ :** For the love of Lucifer, Ciel’s going to be so pissed his father was flogging the log to his Spongebob fanfic. Seems they share a hereditary interest in square-bottomed aquatic creatures._ _

___(Undertaker wipes tears from his eyes and is about to respond when once again someone stands outside the second confessional.)_ _ _

__**Undertaker _(whispering behind a cupped hand to Sebastian as the new arrival lingers before the other compartment)_ :** D’ya s’pose they prefer the starfish on the bottom? _(Sebastian bites his lip so hard it bleeds)__ _

__**Agni _(staring in confusion at a discoloured red velvet curtain leading to an excessively small room)_ :** What do I do now? I was told to come here to confess my sins..._ _

__**Sebastian _( clears his throat before he speaks steadily)_ :** Well first off, you step inside the little box, drop your pants and prostrate yourself appropriately in the instance discipline is due for your sins… _ _

__**Agni _(following the instructions given by the voice inside the adjoining box)_ :** Yes, your majesty, I have done as you have instructed. _ _

__**Undertaker _(leaning up to peek through the partition window)_ :** I’ll be, slap my ass an’ call me Nancy, ‘es actually dunnit._ _

__**Sebastian _(whispering quietly)_ :** Cut or uncut?_ _

__**Undertaker _(getting a closer look)_ :** Well ‘e sure as shit ain’t Christian._ _

__**Sebastian _(clicks his tongue)_ :** It appears you’ve already one strike against you my son. You know what they say, an uncut shaft is an unclean one. But since it’s obviously your first go at this, I’ll give you a free pass. Now go on and tell me what troubles you my child… _(having serious difficulty maintaining a straight face while Undertaker rolls around on the seat in silent mirth)__ _

__**Agni _(Bowing in reverent appreciation)_ :** Thank you, your Highness. Just this week, I have betrayed my prince and I am struck with guilt for having lied to him. You must understand, my young master is sensitive in regards to the pleasures of the flesh and he looked to me for guidance, to know what it was his best friend was doing in the shower; I’m afraid to admit that while I told him I would demonstrate it, I ended up taking advantage of his naiveté_ _

__**Undertaker:** Sensitive…_ _

__**Sebastian:** Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I should have known. Well how did you deceive him? Third base? Home run? Rather than just the old slap and tickle was it?_ _

__**Agni:** I’m sorry, I’m from India, your Honour, do you have any cricket sex references that you could use? _ _

__**Sebastian _(Sighs heavily)_ :** Well then I’ll speak universally. Was your cock anywhere on or around his mouth or anus?_ _

__**Agni _(clearing his throat)_ :** Yes, your Grace, among other places: his nose, his ears as well as his armpits. In fact, I gave him a very thorough introduction to the Kama Sutra. _ _

__**Sebastian:** Did you at least make certain to use plenty of emollient and take care of him good and proper?_ _

__**Agni _(shocked that anyone would question his devotion to his prince’s well-being)_ :** Of course, your Lordship! My prince was never in much discomfort and seemed to enjoy himself. I simply feel guilty because I know that the young Phantomhive was simply pleasuring himself because his lover is either inadequate or does not care to fulfill his master’s needs. _ _

__**Sebastian _(affronted while Undertaker hugs himself and buries his face in his sleeves to muffle his laughter)_ :** That’s a rather rude assumption. I happen to have on good authority that that is NOT the case as his lover was stricken with illness at the time and was unable to assist. _(clears his throat)_ For that presumptuousness, you’ll wear Vincent Phantomhive’s baldcap for the entire evening and you’ll ask your prince to spank you for your other transgressions while wearing it. Do this and your sins will be forgiven, your soul cleansed and unburdened. But don’t hesitate to return should you be burdened again, I’m here every Thursday._ _

__**Agni:** Yes Sire! Your will be done. _(he bows before he shuffles out of the confessional with his pants around his ankles)__ _

___(The joint is relit and finished between Undertaker and Sebastian before yet another patron… Patrons enter the confessional and both Undertaker and Sebastian share a wide eyed look of disgust.)_ _ _

__**Will _(whispering between pants)_ :** Are you sure there’s nobody else here? This chapel smells a lot like Ciel’s bedroom…_ _

__**Grell:** I never said there wouldn’t be anyone here, I just thought our sex life could use a little bit of spice. _(pushes his groom into the back wall of the confessional and unzips his trousers)__ _

__**Undertaker _(squinting and shaking his head, nudging Sebastian)_ :** Oi, do something ‘bout ‘em, wouldya!_ _

__**Sebastian _(looking as close to horrified as he’s ever been and a little green)_ :** And just what in the bloody hell am I to do about it? You’re their damn boss, order them out of here or something._ _

__**Grell _(opening his purse and removing items, placing them on the ground)_ :** Alright Wet Willie, remember when we talked about role playing? We’ll try here; give me your hand, I have to give you a manicure first with this black nailpolish. _(Sebastian can be heard groaning sickly in the background as the nails dry with Grell’s blowing on them)_ Take off your clothes Sweetums and put this tailcoat on as well as this twenty-four inch strap-on; from what I recall _butlers_ are very endowed._ _

__**Sebastian _(gagging)_ :** Dear God, have mercy...I’ll repent..._ _

__**Will _(talking over the slurping sounds filling the confessional)_ :** If I knew you could deep throat twenty-four inches I would have married you sooner, or at least promoted you._ _

__**Undertaker _(While Sebastian is practically convulsing on the floor of the other confessional)_ :** Say uncle. _(Sebastian obeys)__ _

___(Undertaker takes pity on him finally after a good chuckle, obviously. He whistles a little tune and quite abruptly several snakes emerge from god knows where and slip into the other confessional where shrieks are promptly heard.)_ _ _

___(Leaving behind his purse, butler accessories and butt plug in the confessional, Grell runs out of the confessional crying in disappointment while Will **brings up the rear** waddling at an awkwardly but steadfast pace, strap-on bouncing, nearly hitting him in the face with each step and tailcoat flapping in his wake)_ _ _

__**Undertaker:** Ya can untuck yer testicles now Seb. _(He pats Sebastian on the back as the demon tries to sort himself out. Several seconds elapse before there is a subtle creaking from the chapel doors and Sebastian sniffs at the air, immediately attuned to Ciel’s familiar scent. Undertaker notices as well.)_ This should be a riot._ _

__**Ciel _(enters the confessional and trips over a purse that’s been left in the middle of the floor and catches himself on the seat before him, only to have both hands grope a series of objects that have been left behind: a butt plug with a horse’s tail attached to it, nipple clamps shaped like little devils, pleasure emollient that is cinnamon flavoured and a familiar looking eye patch. He throws them to the ground and has a seat)_ :** Father, forgive me for I have sinned. It has been two hours since my last confession._ _

__**Sebastian _(under his breath)_ :** It’s bloody well been longer than that…_ _

__**Undertaker _(Shushing Sebastian noisily before speaking to Ciel)_ :** Go ahead, tell me your sins, my child..._ _

__

__**Ciel:** [ It's best expressed in a reenactment of a monologue performed by Mary Katherine Gallagher in the movie Superstar in her masterful portrayal of the original monologue from the movie Sybil.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeRLdVndLpM)_ _

___(As Ciel reenacts the scene quite flawlessly, Undertaker falls off the bench laughing riotously and Sebastian gets knocked out of the confessional, only to slip on the bottle of emollient and fall on his ass most gracelessly, only to then have Ciel topple out onto him moments later from the other confessional. Blaming his cheeky little mate for the entire embarrassing mishap, he drags Ciel over his knee.)_ _ _

__**Sebastian _(between swift open palmed swats to Ciel’s naked rear)_ :** It’s very clear prayers are not enough penance for you. You need a firm hand._ _

__**Ciel _(smirking the whole time, giving a thumbs up to Undertaker who is peeking through the curtain of his own confessional)_ :** I’m sorry daddy, I mean father, I’ll do better next time…_ _

__**Sebastian:** That’s a fact. _(reaching for the emollient)_ Starting right now..._ _

__**Ciel _(concedes to Sebastian but peers around his mate’s waist to look at Undertaker)_ :** Will you and Snake be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner this year? _ _

__**Undertaker _(With a wink)_ :** Ya bet yer ass we will. I’ll leave you to it then. _(He tips his hat and disappears with a grin, humming a jaunty tune, leaving Sebastian to finish disciplining his naughty butterfly uninterrupted.)__ _

__

__**Director’s note:** Regrettably all other blooper material was lost during the filming of the previous footage. Sorry for any inconvenience. We’ll not be accountable for any humour related injuries._ _


	16. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter is: Honesty is the best policy.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy May Long Weekend from Canada!  
> Hope you enjoy their reunion as much as we enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Mood:
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Home by Gabrielle Aplin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDLfPZkZalc&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=41)  
> Ciel~ [State of Seduction by Digital Daggers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RS8lj86Gh7o)

Sebastian finally lowered the thick inky plumage and Ciel unconsciously wet his lips as he appraised his lover’s body. How did one go about seducing _the_ seducer? Logically, the youth knew he had no chance in hell of coming out of this successful, but the excess of alcohol he’d ingested and the demon’s pulsing erection beneath him bolstered his confidence. 

He coyly placed a delicate finger to his lips, “What to do with you… What to do _to_ you?” he asked more to himself. Then, assessing his surroundings, he got to his feet and reaching for the stool he’d brought in earlier, pushed it towards the demon, “You want to talk about trust right? Then let’s both start by being honest with our desires. Now be a good boy,” he said smiling and patting the seat, “and sit on the stool, Sebastian.”

Obeying the young man, Sebastian moved languidly to seat himself on the stool, humming low under his breath as he situated himself comfortably. His wings draped down his back, their silky tips settled on the floor of his cage while his tail curled around the bottom rung of the stool, feet firmly planted on the ground. He set his hands on his thighs and waited patiently, ignoring the throb of his manhood between his legs as he watched Ciel with interest, curious as to what his obviously inebriated mate had in mind.

Ciel crawled seductively to the edge of the cage, glancing over his shoulder with a devilish smirk as he did so, the skin of his face flushing at the way Sebastian’s starved feline-slitted eyes never left his form. Unable to keep his own eyes off his lover’s face, he bumped into the bars and fell back, startled. He rubbed his cheek before dipping his chest low to the floor while presenting his backside playfully to the demon, and slid the little figurines a hundred and eighty degrees towards the stairway, “You can’t watch this part, it might get inappropriate,” he whispered to them.

Sebastian snorted softly, sensitive ears picking up the whispered words and a wisp of a wicked smirk coloured his mouth, pointed fang tips just visible between the press of his lips. His fingers kneaded at his own thighs as he followed the arch of Ciel’s back, lingering on the firm roundness of the young man’s presented backside. It really was such a lovely sight, so enticing and his mate’s clumsiness was truly endearing. He couldn’t deny how tempting his little butterfly was, even if Ciel wasn’t exactly well versed in seduction. His attempts to be sultry were adorable and had the desired effect regardless. Sebastian wanted to touch him; it’d been so long since he’d tasted and touched, since he’d been allowed to worship his skin.

Still on the floor, Ciel yanked his shoes and socks off, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration then tossed them carelessly out of the cage. The chill that met his bare feet made him visibly shiver, taking away from the enticing manner in which he tried to approach his mate. He stopped when there was less than two feet between them, then pulled the long end of the string behind his head that kept his eyepatch in place and it fell to the ground soundlessly. He shrugged off his suspenders, letting them slip from his frame and hang from his trousers, then fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt. A frustrated little whimper fell from his lips as he gave up trying to unfasten the buttons. “Tempted yet?” he grinned, trying to cover his embarrassment as he closed the distance between them, taking the demon’s contracted hand in his own smaller one, kissing the darkened tips then placing them along the seam of the button placket, his eyes pleading for help.

Half-lidded, sanguine eyes crawled over his mate, glittering beneath Sebastian’s thick lashes as they traveled. From the pointed feline ears atop the silky navy nest of Ciel’s hair, over his pale, flushed face, briefly catching his murky mismatched eyes, to plump, petal-pink lips, down his neck and finally settled on where the young man had guided his stained fingertips. Sebastian tilted his head lazily, forked tongue flickering over his lips as he scented the frustration and anxious eagerness coming off his mate’s skin. “Mm, I was tempted from the moment you first invited me in my precious butterfly, though my motives seem to have changed since then. You’re ever so lovely. If you could see your soul as I do, you’d never question my devotion,” he said smoothly, tone husky and quiet in the stillness of the dungeon as his fingers nimbly unfastened the buttons of his mate’s shirt. Once finished, he ran his hands up Ciel’s belly, palms flattening against his skin as his fingers spread possessively, lovingly over his sides and chest. “Positively exquisite, inside and out…”

Ciel swallowed hard, goosebumps rising under Sebastian’s touch as skilled fingers moved to the band of his low-hanging trousers, displaying prominent hipbones, while his greedy mismatched eyes preyed on his mate’s lips as they moved lecherously around the words he spoke. How he wanted to lose himself by devouring that sinfully delicious mouth, to take his own pleasure without a second thought for demon’s, to pay him in kind for having denied him any gratification on the flight some days ago. But revenge hadn’t been what he’d desired when he sought his mate this evening; Sebastian had been trying, in his own way, to show his love, had done so from the start, while he himself had been demanding, self-absorbed and had rejected his lover’s affections repeatedly. He no more wanted to be re-infected by their mutual betrayal, than watch his mate needlessly contaminate and taint his being to redeem him from something that could have been prevented had he just been honest with himself in the first place. 

He stilled Sebastian’s adoring hands and kissed the open palms before he moved and held them delicately on the demon’s lap, then gently swept a damp strand of the raven hair from his lover’s confused face, planting soft kisses to his forehead, each cheek and his nose. 

He stalked around Sebastian, dragging his fingers featherlight across the tarnished skin that served as proof of his selfless sacrifice; and careful not to step on the silky plumage, wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in the inky black hair, inhaling the scent he’d so missed and had always taken for granted. “And my soul,” he whispered into the demon’s locks, speaking truthfully about the cause of his dread, wanting to settle it once and for all, “When you say it’s exquisite… when you say you're devoted to it… you mean as sustenance, right?” His voice shook as he trailed his hands down the smooth, solid planes of the demon’s chest, kneading the skin, caressing the firm muscles, pressing his fingers in order to ease the pulsing, slightly elevated and darkened vessels that contained within them the venom of Ciel’s doubt, rejection and scorn. “Will it hurt Sebastian, when you…?”

Sebastian’s head lolled to the side and he inhaled deeply before exhaling a low hum, fingers reaching up to brush against Ciel’s, capturing them against his chest. “It doesn’t have to be painful, but you needn’t worry about that sweetling. I don’t plan to make a meal of you anymore. I want you for so much more than that and for much longer if you’ll have me. I’ll protect your beautiful soul as if it’s my own,” he murmured in response, spreading Ciel’s fingers between his own over the echoing beat of his unnecessary heart.

Ciel’s hand squeezed Sebastian’s then withdrew from his grasp to massage the skin at the shoulders, then to roll his thumbs in little circles along the length of the demon’s spine. He remained speechless as he fanned his fingers and pressed his palms, moving them out from the spine and towards the shoulder blades, pulling out the tension from the past few days. Drops, crystalline against Sebastian’s porcelain skin, spotted the poison-streaked back, few at first, then flowing like rain down a window pane and cleansing the skin where they fell, leaving a purified path. He sniffed once, twice, then to conceal a third, pressed a soft shuddering kiss on the exposed side of his lover’s neck, just below the ear. Wet lashes fluttered, like kisses from butterflies as his lips continued to trail down to Sebastian’s nape. 

The demon hummed appreciatively, deep and guttural in his chest as his mate's clever fingers kneaded at his flesh, soothing away aches and unbinding knots from the muscle beneath his skin. He'd closed his eyes, but opened them again when he both felt the warm droplets and smelled the salt of Ciel's tears. "For what are you weeping sweetling?" he asked in soft murmur, confusion and concern in the quiet tone.

“Not sure,” Ciel answered, inhaling solemnly. Logically, he should be elated by the prospect of not having his soul devoured, but he was suspicious by his very nature, and his relentless guilt told him Sebastian was toying with him, that this would be a perfectly fitting punishment for what he’d done to the demon. If this was to be his penance, he would gladly take it, especially if it brought him one step closer to assuring the payment he’d promised of a _happy ending_ to the unusual bloke in the chapel. 

Unconsciously, Ciel ran his fingers through the feathers, soothing and separating those that had become terse, bunched and bound to one another due to the ever-present oppressive moisture of the dungeon, and if he were completely honest, the stress he’d imposed on his mate. They came apart without effort, and as his fingers reached the tips, he brought them to his face, worshiping and savoring the way the ruffled clumps had become soft tufts under his reverent touch. “Is this something you frequently do? Amend your covenant with your masters? How many souls have you _cared_ for as your own in the past, Sebastian?”

A shudder of pleasure spread through Sebastian as Ciel’s nimble fingers threaded through the feathers of his wings, untangling the plumes from one another with tender reverence. His skin tingled and the throbbing presence of his erection pulsed eagerly between his thighs in response to the gentle stroking of the feathered appendages, unused to the pleasant stimulation and weak to it. As Ciel spoke, he breathed out a heavy sigh, scenting the suspicion though his young master was trying to deny it. He reached back with one hand to stroke his own fingers through the back of Ciel’s silky locks as he replied honestly, “None so far as I can recall. I’ve not had many other covenants such as ours sweetling. Your family was the first and will be the last to bind me in such a manner. But for you, I need no contract to capture and enslave me. Even without it, I would belong to you little butterfly.”

Ciel hummed in response, his pulse beating a little stronger beneath his skin when Sebastian’s narrowed cat-slit eyes gazed into his own as he made his confessions. The look would have made any mortal’s body tense and tighten in a way that would send shivery little tendrils of desire shooting to their most sensitive regions. Catching his breath, Ciel pulled back and looked up, checking to see if the demon had noticed the effect just one such look had had on him. And because he was concentrating on Sebastian rather than what his feet were doing, he stumbled over something coiled on the ground at the demon’s feet. Impulsivity heightened by the liquor he’d imbued, he took possessive hold of the demon’s tail near the base, felt it twitch as he wrapped his small hand around the sleek, leathery limb and he tightened and twisted his grip along its length, uncoiling it as he did so until he reached the spaded tip.

Sebastian’s breath hitched and the muscles in his abdomen fluttered as Ciel’s fingers wrapped around the sensitive base of his tail. He exhaled and inhaled a silent, shuddering breath and swallowed against a sudden excess of saliva in his mouth, licking his lips and shifting in his seat. His tail curled and uncurled, the spaded tip seeking to brush against Ciel as if to encourage the youth further in his ministrations and a low purring began to rumble in Sebastian’s chest. His wings stretched halfway, stiff with the onslaught of his arousal, the feathers ruffling restlessly. “Butterfly… You shouldn’t tease me this way. Aren’t you bothered touching such a thing?” he said, his voice huskier, lower and strained, the rumbling purr still evident beneath his words as he questioned his lover, uncertain and becoming increasingly aroused by Ciel’s eager touch to such a clearly unholy appendage.

Ciel chuckled, it was a sultry sound, effortlessly flirtatious, “But it’s _so_ cute, Sebastian! Look, I have one too!” he said, dancing his way back in front of the demon, bending playfully for his mate, looking behind at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth before he snapped back up and straddled his lover’s lap, tail still in hand. “I love _all_ your parts, especially your demon parts,” he muttered into the appendage, then closing his eyes, caressed it lovingly against his cheek as he stroked a lower portion with an overly affectionate touch. Something about the act felt familiar and intimate, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He frowned in deep concentration, bringing it to his mouth and letting it drag along his bottom lip, skimming his tongue along the smooth length. “Wait!” he finally exclaimed, catching the demon’s face between his hands, confused by the look Sebastian was giving him, “Do you have horns as well?” he asked, punctuating all the words.

Sebastian shivered again, tail twitching against Ciel’s mouth, his eyes half-lidded, dilated thickly and glittering ethereally beneath his heavy lashes as he watched the young man. His fingers curled into his pant legs tightly to keep himself from grabbing Ciel and pulling him into his lap, to touch him, taste him, claim him again and to cherish him like he should have always, but he’d vowed not to do such, to leave the choice to his mate. Ciel had said he loved all parts of him, but he wasn’t entirely certain that the extent went passed the physical and until he was sure, he would not give in to his own desire.

He stiffened when Ciel’s hands framed his face and licked his lips unconsciously as he met the glimmering mismatched violet-midnight depths of his mate, Ciel’s question filtering into his arousal clouded mind lazily. His tongue felt thick as he responded finally, “Yes, amongst other things sweetling. When angels fall, mutations are inevitable, I’m afraid, though they are generally less disturbing than the forms of naturally unholy beings. You’ll understand when you’re no longer blinded by the ignorance of mortal sight.” His explanation had likely been unnecessary, but it was at least somewhat distracting from the throbbing of want under his skin and the spiciness of arousal in his scent, mingling deliciously with the bittersweetness of divinity that clung to Ciel’s.

“ʼĔlāhā, you fell from Heaven… you poor thing!” the intoxicated youth gasped, his cat ears askew. He tucked a strand of Sebastian’s hair behind an ear before raining hot, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, encouraged by the consistent throb of the swelling he felt against his backside. Even in his inebriated state, he could appreciate the kind of power such a being would command; it filled him with pride and admiration, which both excited and aroused him tremendously. He shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor and held his lithe form against Sebastian as he continued tasting the spicy essence of the demon’s flesh, spoiling and pampering his lover with his mouth, “Did it hurt? What was Heaven like? Is that where you got the crown? I won’t tell anyone, I _promise_...”

Another rolling growl sounded as Ciel’s lips fell along his throat, damp and hot and sinfully distracting. He hissed when the young man ground himself into his lap and removed his shirt, Sebastian’s nails elongated and dug into his flesh through his pants, the sting hardly registering and only elevating the heat roiling in his blood. He ran his tongue along the top row of serrated fangs unconsciously, hips rolling up against the press of his mate’s backside without his conscious consent as he tried to focus on the words that spilled from pretty pout lips. 

“Yes, I was an angel once and it was indeed painful to have my grace torn from within me, but I can hardly remember it anymore; it was a very long time ago sweeting. Heaven is… quiet and warm for the most part, soft and uneventful from what I can recall of it. But I lived in Eden when God created the first of your kind. I was charged with sewing the seeds of love and desire between the creatures he created. The crown was fashioned from the roses I cultivated there, by Adam, and gifted to Eve at my prompting. Upon her death, it was returned to me and I’ve kept it as I’ve kept many such trinkets safe and coveted from those who would not appreciate them. Now they are yours, much as I am,” he answered, lidded eyes murky with arousal and bittersweet memory. At some time during his response, his hands had left his own thighs and gravitated to Ciel’s sides, caressing up and down the soft skin, sharp claws tender and ticklish as they trailed in the wake of his palms and fingertips.

As Ciel considered Sebastian’s history, he hummed to himself a song whose lyrics he couldn’t recall in their entirety. He cupped his hands to the devil’s pointed ear, purring, his voice dropping a lower octave than usual as he sang only the parts he knew, only the parts that were relevant, “Let us make amends… something, something, something, something… But it’s not heaven without you…” He pulled back, mirth and mischief painting his face as surely as the flush that warmed his cheeks. It wasn’t until he noticed he was being tickled and began squirming in Sebastian’s lap that the tender sharp touch that grazed his skin made itself known; he grinned and only half-heartedly tried to escape before he grasped and pressed his mate’s hands firmly against his bottom, “This is an order Sebastian, touch me like you mean it.” When he felt his lover’s hesitation, and pushed himself back into the reluctant hands, a teasing lilt found its way to his tone, “Sufficiently seduced yet, my love?”

The fallen hummed gutturally in affirmation, his hands kneading at the plump curve of his mate’s backside where Ciel had guided them, following the order without further hesitation. It was too difficult to keep restraining himself when he wanted to feel his mate so desperately. “It is impossible to resist you butterfly. You are so alluring,” he said as his agile tail slithered and coiled around Ciel’s waist, the tip prodding ticklishly between his shoulderblades and at the nape of his neck. 

The eager press of his lover against him accompanied by the coy words and captivating scent of his mate’s arousal was enough to coax more of the feral features to the forefront, the tips of deep violet-black horns beginning to prod through the flesh just over Elven pointed ears, slowly creeping further, curling back around the delicate appendages and coming to sharp ends just beneath the soft lobes. And there was the subtle glimmer of inky scale lingering beneath the surface of his skin as his true form fought for dominance. Sebastian didn’t have the capacity to keep fighting it, especially when it felt so good to allow his unholy and inhuman attributes their freedom, to no longer suffocate and strangle them into submission beneath his human guise. It was liberating in both the freedom to be as he truly was and to put trust in the young man that he shared a bond with. What better show of faith, of devotion that to let his lover see all there was to see of him. Ciel had said he loved all parts of him; it was as good a time as any to find out if that held true.

Ciel couldn’t help but feel as though Sebastian had gotten everything wrong; it was the demon who’d been irresistible from the start, and despite his stubborn resistance, despite his upbringing and all his education, he’d been unable to keep from falling for the Fallen. “Fate gifted you to me; and I’m not sure why you fell, but I can’t be sorry that you did or begrudge you the sins you’ve committed as a result because if you’d done anything different, we might not be here, as we are this very moment.” He buried his face into Sebastian’s neck, embarrassed and unaccustomed to saying such things to anyone. He felt impossibly more connected to the demon now that he’d spoken his truth, as if he’d been waiting to tell him from their first meeting; no, from his first breath. 

He’d only closed his eyes a moment to revel in Sebastian’s embrace, to finally take notice of the arousal that was buzzing under his own skin and the ebbing throb between his thighs when he took in the unmistakable slip of the human façade before him. His lips parted in surprise before they curved into a smile. Sebastian might have called the features _feral_ or _unholy_ , they were quite simply ethereal and Ciel desired him no less now than he ever did. 

As with the tail, the intoxicated youth could not refrain from touching the horns that adorned his lover’s head. He stroked them, taking pleasure in their smooth contours, delighted in the sacrilege they denoted, revering them like they were features worthy of worship, and so they were. They lengthened and curled further in response, reacting to Sebastian’s obvious arousal, when quite suddenly, he was overcome by a fit of giggles, “Sebastian,” he snorted, trying so hard to suppress his laughter that tears welled up in his eyes, “Do I make you _horny_?”

Scarlet eyes narrowed further beneath the heavy press of sooty lashes and he smirked ferally as he leaned in to nip at his mate’s cheeky little mouth. “You tell me sweetling,” he said as he rolled his hips up against Ciel’s backside, the rigid, ridged stiff heat of his member pressing insistently against the cleft of the young man’s fabric clad rear. His fingers kneaded at Ciel’s sides firmly, drew him into the thrusting motions and purring growls rumbled through his chest, possessive and pleasured as he touched and was touched in return. Ciel was not denying himself or Sebastian, was not making excuses for their intimacy this time. As it should be, it was natural, a matched pair that captivated one another and the demon could hardly hope to remain resistant to his mate’s desire. He was weak to Ciel’s honesty. “Will you let me have you butterfly? Will you beg for me?” he breathed huskily against Ciel’s lips, serpentine tongue flickering teasingly at the sensitive corner.

A sobered desperate need replaced innocent intoxicated teasing and the smoldering sapphire of his blue eye darkened to midnight as he arched and ground himself into his rutting mate. The stains that had painted the demon’s porcelain skin had faded somewhat since he’d first caught sight of Sebastian; had their intimacy brought upon that change? Was their honesty all that was needed to salvage their bond? Ciel would not stop until he atoned for the sins he'd committed against his lover, would give Sebastian whatever it was he needed and desired to be made whole again. 

“Anything for you, _my pet_... as much as you want… as much as you _need_ ,” he whispered, stroking his mate’s face, further aroused by the glorious shadowy scales making their way through the faltering human guise, “But first…” He captured the demon’s tail which was now whipping wildly, lust making the movements sharp and wicked, and brought the spaded tip to his wrists one at a time, carving into his flesh vertically as one might do to quicken the release of blood from the body. It took no time at all for the essence to run down his arms, and trace intricate patterns along his chest. “Heal me, as I heal you,” he breathed before taking the tip into his mouth and raking it across the flat surface of his tongue, feeling the sting of its sharp edge pierce the hot flesh. He brought his mouth to Sebastian’s in a demanding, claiming kiss, greedy noise escaping from the back of his throat as his sanguine tongue slid against the forked one of his lover, stoking the heat in his belly.

Sebastian went deathly still, his glowing eyes watching his mate, shivering violently as arousal pulsed in electric waves of heat beneath his skin, throbbing in time with the ragged beat of his mortal heart. His predatory gaze followed the winding rivulets of blood on Ciel’s skin until the boy kissed him and quite abruptly, he was in motion again, contracted hand lifting to tangle and curl tightly in the soft strands at the back of his mate’s head while the other slid over his rear while Sebastian stood in a fluid motion. Wicked flames licked over the fabric still concealing Ciel’s skin from him, growling as he sucked on the young man’s tongue greedily and his fire, pleasantly warm against his mate’s skin as it burned away the material of his clothing.

Agile, soot-tipped fingers snuck between the smooth plump cheeks of his mate’s backside, seeking out and rubbing teasingly at the little orifice hidden there while he pressed Ciel’s back to the bars of his cage. Divine as Ciel’s being was at its core, the cage would not cause him any harm as it did the demon and so Sebastian had no hesitation in pinning him there, mouth moving from mouth to throat, collar and chest, tasting at flesh and blood, lapping up the bittersweet life eagerly, leisurely finding his way to the bleeding self-inflicted lacerations on his mate’s wrists. His tongue curled around them, bathed and cleansed them as the wound closed under its attentions and energy rushed through him, soothing away the remnants of the venom that webbed his skin, igniting his most intense instincts and desires. The last vestiges of his human guise fell away, the glittering onyx scaling that had lingered under his flesh became tangible, smoothly transitioning from skin to scale while his proportions shifted as they had when he had held Ciel in his inhuman form not so long ago.

“Do you know butterfly, that as you love all parts of me, so too do I love all parts of you? Be mine sweetling; I’ll never betray you. I can give you what you crave most my love, my Ciel; I can give you freedom,” Sebastian’s voice whispered ethereally, guttural and feral in his throat as the words washed over his mate’s now kiss bruised skin.

Sebastian delivered on the promise he’d made upon their first meeting of making it ecstasy when he took Ciel’s blood this time. The boy trembled in his arms, quivered rapturously, colour high on his cheeks, his eyes bright and feverish. He crushed his body into the demon’s, moulding his slender form against it, rocking and arching recklessly into the consuming, scorching heat, making his yearning known to his mate, “Already yours, Sebastian, j-just.. say it again…please...” Ciel breathed between ragged pants, his lips swollen and crimson from blood-soaked kisses, “Say my name…” 

Sebastian’s conveniently oil slickened fingertips prodded at the fluttering entrance between plush cheeks as he rutted himself against his enthusiastic mate, growling his encouragement as he scented the air, tasting the arousal on Ciel’s skin. The wanting was potent and intoxicating. He hitched the boy up higher against the bars, braced and pinned him there as he sucked and bit marks into the pale column of his mate’s throat. “Ciel… My butterfly, my undoing,” he breathed over the damp and marred skin, lips caressing over the vulnerable and sensitive flesh as two fingers pushed inside his mate with determined tenderness. His other hand groped at Ciel’s smooth and shapely thigh, caressing and kneading at it as he devoured the young man, his own remaining garments fading from his form as Ciel’s had before and his name echoed on the fallen angel’s lips again and again as he lost himself in the feel of his mate all around him.

Ciel felt inhuman; no, _more_ than human as he drew himself against the graceful willowy frame of his mate.Their bond, exposed and naked as they were, stripped of any marker of time, was an unholy mix of divinity and sacrilege that consecrated the now rocking suspended cage. The mortal cried out as the gentle razored fingers impaled him and brushed his prostate, “Sebastian, ʼĔlāhā! Sebastian! Please, have me!” His hands ran up the demon’s arms and to the torrid curves of his shoulders, clinging savagely, nails digging, clawing and finding purchase amidst the iridescent obsidian scales. 

As sweat soaked Ciel’s collar like gossamer pearls of a rosary, so did a substance, soft as the finest silk between his fingers as they pierced the devil’s flesh. Tempting and delectable, the scent made him shiver, further rousing his need for his mate, compelling him to hungrily lick, taste and suck the spicy sweet essence, moaning around his fingers as it mingled with the still fresh cut on his tongue. 

Sebastian inserted another finger and both of Ciel's hands shot out, grasping the metal behind him; rhythmic thrusts moved him higher against the bars, then lower in sync with the ebb and flow of the blood in his veins while the fine etchings of confinement seals left barely noticeable scratches on his back. “Shemayah! Highyea!” Heaven and salvation! Heaven and freedom!  
He held the bars tighter as the demon’s mouth devoured his own, gripped them harder still with every brush of his prostate and throb of his aching need. The bars wrenched and screamed their protest in unison with Ciel’s ecstasy until heat scorched his grip and metal turned to ash in his hands.

Sebastian’s movements only faltered for the briefest of moments as the ancient bars of his cage began to crumble in his master’s hands, the characters slipping off the iron only to crawl along his mate’s skin and make themselves at home there on his flesh. Ciel probably had no idea of what he was doing, likely had not meant to transfer the parameters of the fallen’s confinement into himself. He’d made himself Sebastian’s cage and the demon could not be more comfortable with his new accommodations. Ciel did not know it yet, but to make such claims and seal them in blood was the foundation of unholy matrimony, not only a mating or a bonding, but a marriage made eternal in the mingling of their essences.

He was gentle as he sank to the floor with Ciel still in his arms, steadily moving his fingers in and out of his mate, spreading the oil secreted from his fingertips purposefully. He laid him back onto a bed of dark feathers, soft and plush against his precious mate’s beautifully spread body. He sat back on his heels, wings hovering in a velvet canopy overhead as he admired the glimmering runes spilled over his lover’s skin, reveling in the hitching cries falling from kiss bruised and bloodstained lips and wicked arching of his little butterfly into his caress, so wanton and uninhibited. Ciel was unabashed and wild like this, free and unashamed of his begging desires. Sebastian could not restrain himself any longer and bent forward to trace the warm marks with his tongue while whispering in heaven’s language his own desire to live inside Ciel, an endless sky for him to make his home again, pressing in yet another finger, eager to have his mate prepared for him to take him.

Ciel’s eyes closed of their own accord as Sebastian’s words were mouthed onto his flesh, “Please love… I can’t… ” he begged, his voice breaking deliriously as he brought his lover’s contracted hand to his weeping member, “Please…” Sebastian was beautiful like this, free from the restraint of his human guise, free from his confinement; a demon of pure lust, worthy of worship and begging. It was as it ought to be. They were as they ought to be, joined this way, breathing into one another, consuming and being consumed. “Sebastian!” he gasped, chest heaving below his mate, “Tie me to you in every way possible… _lemana shabakthani_ …this was the destiny for which I was born!”

Sebastian’s breath hitched, ears twitching and movements stilling as the ancient words tumbled from his lover’s lips, avowing his desires to the demon and sealing their bond that much closer. “As you wish, my eden,” his silky voice caressed over the markings on his lover’s skin. He pulled his fingers from inside the young man and ran them over the ridged thickness of his own manhood, slicking it in precum and the oil from his fingertips. It was only seconds before he was hovering over his mate and guiding his swollen member into the eagerly twitching little hole, pressing in by inches and breathing unholy and divine praise over Ciel’s flushed and glistening skin. His leathery-smooth tail slithered and coiled around Ciel’s thigh, firmly holding it in place while his hand groped and pinned the other while he sank inside heaven.

With a groan of surrender, Ciel arched his back, bearing down on Sebastian. There was nothing left of this world but their bodies moving in perfect harmony, the weight of his lover rocking into him and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. He gripped fistfuls of darkened plumes, sobbing his delight through broken words urging the demon to move faster, harder, deeper.

Growls and husky declarations poured from Sebastian’s lips as he moved inside his lover, complied with Ciel’s every demand, gave him everything he wanted, everything he was capable of giving his mate. He drank Ciel’s words and swallowed his breath, tasted his core and coveted it, cherished and adored it. The fingers of one hand spread under Ciel’s back while the other migrated from around one plump thigh to wrap firmly around his little lover’s pretty blushing cock, stroking as he drove himself into his mate with intense rocking thrusts, wings stiffening in Ciel’s grip as the demon led them both to the precipice of ecstasy.

Ciel’s toes curled painfully as his heels dug into the ground, “M-more! Please Sebastian! Don’t stop!” His hand left the plush pulsing wing, trying to feel its way to touch and grope at his tightening sac, but as he neared it, it was slapped playfully out of the way by his mate’s soft slender tail. It coiled itself around his wrist, then the other, pinning them above his head. “You don’t... play fair,” he said breathlessly, squirming under the demon, his left leg hitching itself over Sebastian’s shoulder. He cried out as the new position allowed the demon to penetrate him deeper. His desire surged, winding his muscles tight in his belly, “Sebastian… I… I…”

The demon hummed lowly, rolling his hips torturously into his mate’s, hands gripping his mate tightly and working in tandem with his body’s thrusting motions. “You what precious? You needn’t be afraid, tell me all your secrets Ciel, they’re mine to hold as much as you are,” he whispered as he pressed his lips below the young man’s ear. His sweat mingled, spicy to Ciel’s bittersweet and it was potent on his skin and scented in the air and Sebastian was quickly losing himself to his own pleasure in his lover’s desire, unable to hold back when he felt as if he’d been welcomed home after a too long while away. Heaven was in Ciel’s scent, nirvana on his tongue and Eden there in his body’s embrace and Sebastian never wanted to leave again.

“I missed you…” It’d come out of nowhere, he’d meant to say he couldn’t go on, that he was so close, but his longing had surfaced instead. The absence hadn’t been days old, it’d felt like they’d been separated for millennia, since forever; it’d been a loss so heavy that Ciel shook with it, struggled against his restraint, was desperate to hold his lover close, then closer still. “I missed you… I missed you...” he repeated passionately into the empty space between them, too far a distance for his taste. Simultaneously, he felt the slackening of the tail’s hold and the withdrawal of Sebastian’s cock and he took no time to mount the demon’s sitting lap. Warmth ensconced him both in the form of lithe, strong arms and midnight feathers as he rolled his hips into the demon’s, his fevered, pleading eyes never leaving Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian’s hands palmed Ciel’s hips, long fingers wrapping around to knead at the firm globes of his rear while the demon’s tail slipped up Ciel’s back in support, the spaded tip curling ever so tenderly around the young man’s throat. His eyes bore into mismatched depths, as dark and endless as his desire for his mate. Muscle bunched, tensed and relaxed as he rutted up into every downward roll of Ciel’s hips, the knotted base of his inhuman cock flaring with eager warning and he breathed his assurances raggedly, hushed and harsh, caught in the heavy air between them. “Shh I’ve got you sweetling and I won’t leave again. My Ciel, my butterfly… My heaven. I’ll keep you for eternity and longer still.”

Ciel countered the demon’s thrusts, lifting his torso and rocking his hips against him, “S-so close,” his breath hitched, panting as he lay his head against Sebastian’s shoulder for support. He pinched his eyes shut and took three shallow breaths as his movements became erratic; his mate’s words seared themselves onto his skin, into his memory; alive and acute and burning with pleasure. “Sebastian… I’m… I’m…” he whimpered, eyes rolling back as his orgasm claimed him, painting the iridescent midnight scales with the starry pearls of his essence, and went limp in his lover’s arms.

As soon as Ciel’s body greedily tightened around him, Sebastian growled low and feral, burying his face against the side of his mate’s throat, teeth piercing there as his hips slammed up flush against Ciel’s backside. As the knot at the base of his cock was forced inside the strangling heat and liquid bittersweet richness coated his tongue, his own climax washed over him in painfully euphoric waves, hot cum filling his mate, claiming him from inside as well as out. He was purring deep in his chest as the tremors of aftershocks scuttled beneath his skin. It took several long, lingering seconds in which he bathed the bite he’d marked Ciel’s throat with affectionately until it was a silvery scar that would fade no further before he pulled away to find his mate sound asleep in his arms. He smiled fondly as he brushed stray strands of damp hair from Ciel’s peaceful and still attractively flushed face. 

He continued to simply pet and stroke his mate’s hair and skin, waiting until the swell of his inhuman manhood subsided before he picked the spent and sated boy up. Gathering him gently to his chest and cradling him there, Sebastian left the ruins of his cage and the dungeon behind and instead found his way to Ciel’s bedroom. He took his time cleaning his mate up, humming his lullaby quietly as he worked and then tucked the exhausted young man into his warm bed. He crawled in with him, drew Ciel against him and curled around him protectively, reveling in his mate’s vulnerability and the trust he’d been given in this one most profound encounter and he would not squander it again. He pressed a kiss to Ciel’s temple and closed his wings around them. “Sleep well my butterfly, no nightmares will find you,” he whispered as he closed his own eyes and let sleep come for him as well. Sleep wasn’t a necessity, but it was always nice to dream once in awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16 Blooper Reel
> 
> *Scene 16 “Reconciliation” (Phantomhive Estate- Kitchen) Prior to visiting the cage*
> 
>  
> 
> _(The camera crew soundless approaches the kitchen as they hear a string of swears, loud banging, clanging pots, more swearing, silverware falling on the ground, crying, screaming, additional swearing, bandaids being torn from their packets and glass breaking as it hits the floor)_
> 
>  
> 
> _(Lead Camera Man shushes the film crew, signals for the Boom guy to come closer to get better sound)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Ciel _(wearing an apron with blue butterflies and a chef’s hat askew on his head is on a stool looking over a massive pot of boiling water)_ :** For fucks sake… stuffing a sheep’s stomach with diced sheep’s liver, lungs and heart? Is this a recipe for a soul or a meal fit for a fucking demon. Fucking nasty. Ouch! God damn it! _(looks at a lump of heavy spongy stuff on the counter)_ Fuck my life, is that suet? That goddamn Undertaker! Fuck this smells… _(looks over the list Undertaker recited in the confessional)_ Oatmeal too? 
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ciel leaves the boiling pot of water and ingredients to walk across the kitchen to the pantry to look for oatmeal when the fire alarm goes off)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Ciel** Mother fucker! _(he turns around to see the tea towel he had nearby has caught fire and has spread to the papertowel roll affixed on the bottom of the cupboards)_ Stop! _(he runs over removing his apron and starts hitting the small fire with it, but it also catches fire and he burns the tips of his fingers letting it fall to the floor where it sets the large carpet on fire)_
> 
> ***  
>  _(Ciel is sitting on the curb in front of Phantomhive Estate and Seb sits next to him, the smell of smoke is still thick in the air and the firetrucks and emergency vehicles are only starting to leave)_
> 
>  **Sebastian** Butterfly, you burned down the kitchen. We have to host Thanksgiving dinner next weekend; do you care to tell me _HOW_ I’m supposed to cook a turkey _without_ a kitchen? 
> 
> ***  
> *Scene 16 “Reconciliation” (In a seedy bar not so far away from set)* 
> 
>  
> 
> _(Poe is sitting on the bar top while Undertaker serves him a shotglass of bloodied whiskey. Undertaker leans on the bar, cleaning a glass idly while Poe sips at his drink and laments angrily.)_
> 
>  
> 
>  **Poe:** And the nerve of him. Wouldn’t even let me watch. I did all the damn work and he gets all the fucking spoils. When’s Poe get to have a little fun, huh? How come I don’t get any nookie? Selfish son of a bitch demon, can’t even share. Now he’s been forgiven, I might as well be chopped liver.
> 
>  **Undertaker _(chuckling)_ :** What would ya even do wit a mate like that? Ya’re a bird, no? Birds an’ butterflies don’ fuck. Diff’rent parts an’ all tha’.Ya know wha ya should do, go find yerself a pretty little lady raven an’ make some wee little chicks ya can teach to annoy the shit out o’ yer master.
> 
>  **Poe:** Easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like to be a familiar. Gotta feel what he feels and seriously, Ciel’s got a damn fine backside, just want to bite it. The way Asmodeus goes at it, you’d think it was the last supper.
> 
>  **Undertaker:** Oh ho ho. Jus’ a wee bit o’ jealousy seems ta me. Ya aven’t told the lil phantom you fancy ‘is naughty bits?
> 
>  **Poe:** D’you even have a brain in there or has it turned to dust in your old age? Of course I haven’t said I fancy his hindbits. I like my wings unbroken thanks very much. That piece of shit I serve ain’t gonna be nice about it. It’s all well and good when he wants ta use my god damned eyes to watch the kid having a wank in the shower, but when I want to have a little cuddle with him in the bed after they’re done rutting, what’s he do? Throws me out the damn window like a common pest. Fucker... 
> 
> **Ciel _(Arrives at the bar, comes directly to Poe and pays the tab for him)_ :** Come along Poe, I’ve come to take you home. Sebastian said you weren’t going to make it on your own and I can see he was right. _(He carefully picks Poe up and places him on his shoulder, having to hold him there so that the wobbly bird doesn’t fall off.)_
> 
>  
> 
> _**Poe _(nuzzling and nipping at Ciel’s hair)_ :** Mhm, I don’t want to come home unless I get to sleep on your pillow, even if the shitty demon complains._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Ciel:** Yes yes, there’s room enough for all of us. God help me, I thought I was the needy one._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Poe:** Noo, I don’t want to share anymore. He already monopolized you enough. Make him sleep out on the porch. I liked it better when he was in the proverbial doghouse. You like me better, don’t you?_
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _(Ciel just hums and pets him until soft snores are heard as he makes his way home.)_  
> 


	17. Thanksgiving Interlude: Gobble Gobble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mr. and Mrs. host their first Thanksgiving dinner together.   
> Thanks to those of you who suggested #justiceforpoe - it seems to be working...   
> Hit me up on Instagram: poe_michaelis for more bloopers, sneakpeaks, drabbles and art.

_(Ciel is in his office alone reviewing next week’s script, trying to commit the lines to memory as his cell phone starts vibrating on the desk. Annoyed, he picks up the phone and a huge smile stretches across his face and his pants tighten)_

**Fido:** I learned how to use the camera… _**Img1**_

_(The picture is of Sebastian wearing only an apron that says “Get Stuffed” with a turkey baster in hand and a devilish smirk)_

**Ciel:** What filter is that? 

**Fido:** Purely unfiltered my love

**Ciel _(turns the camera this way and that and nods appreciatively)_ :** Impressive! Send me another, but with less clothing. 

**Fido:** Better? _**Img2**_

_(The next image is of Sebastian without the apron, but a strategically placed squash obscuring the best bit from view)_

**Ciel:** Marginally, you tease. I was thinking something more along these lines... _> **Img1**_

_(After a few minutes, Ciel sends a picture of himself smirking with this feet up on the desk without clothes and the Holy Bible in his lap, NOT strategically placed)_

**Fido:** How risque…

**Fido:** **_Img666_** Gobble Gobble.

_(The image is of Sebastian with his entire hand inside the turkey, a wicked smirk, and a single dark brow raised in challenge.)_

**Ciel _(throwing the Bible to the floor and shoving the script into a drawer, but not before taking out the lube that’s been kept in there for such an occasion)_ :** Are you coming up or am I going down? 

**Fido:** You come to me, I’ve still got quite a bit of stuffing to do. ;)

**Ciel:** You’ll have more if I come down there… 

**Fido:** As the saying goes, two birds with one stone sweetling. I’m quite skilled at multitasking.

**Ciel _(not bothering to put clothes on before leaving the office)_ :** I’m coming ;)

**Fido:** Not yet butterfly, but you will be. Make haste. 

_(Ciel arrives downstairs momentarily, climbs onto the counter and much stuffing and basting ensues…)_

__

***

_(After the bird is in the oven and the kitchen has been thoroughly cleaned, the newlyweds sit down to plan the seating arrangement for the guests attending the Thanksgiving dinner they’re hosting to announce their nuptials)_

 **Sebastian _(shifting placement cards around in two rows, and setting aside a handful in another separate pile)_ :** Well, if we place your parents just on the right of us here and Undertaker and Snake across from them... 

**Ciel _(moves his own card to Sebastian’s left, instead of his right)_ :** Please, I don’t want to sit next to Vincent; I think this works better…

**Sebastian _(scoffs and snatches up both Ciel’s card and Lucifer’s cards, putting his brother’s in the aside pile.)_ :** Fat chance love, Lucifer is sitting at the children’s table with Grell and Soma. You can sit next to your mother. We’ll put William next to your father. They should get along smashingly, comparing the length of the sticks they have shoved up their asses. Agni here next to Snake.

**Ciel _(moves his mother’s card down one spot and puts Lizzie’s card next to his own)_ :** You’re such a spoilsport sometimes. You never let me play with Lucifer. 

**Sebastian _(sighs in exasperation and rubs his forehead with one hand)_ :** I honestly don’t see the appeal… He’s completely self-centered. If the both of you were together, nothing would even occur. You’d simply argue over whom would be getting anything first. Completely selfish.

**Ciel _(gives an incredulous look to his mate)_ :** Wait? Are you jealous, Sebastian? 

**Sebastian _(snorts)_ :** Hardly. What’s there to be jealous of? I’m the better lover without question.

**Ciel _(leaves his seat, straddles Sebastian’s lap and wraps his arms around his neck)_ :** Obviously. I just like going out to the spa with Luci. What you’re suggesting is just disgusting.

**Sebastian _(unconsciously groping Ciel’s bottom)_ :** I was not the one that first put such an idea-

**Ciel _(interrupts by putting a finger awkwardly to Sebastian’s mouth, effectively shutting him up)_ :** You’re talking too much again...

**Sebastian _(nips at Ciel’s finger)_ :** I thought you wanted to hear me my love.

**Ciel _(rolling his hips into Sebastian)_ :**Sounds, not words. 

**Sebastian _(hums)_ :** Are you sure about that butterfly? You seemed to be rather responsive to certain debaucherous verbiage in the past.

**Ciel _(looks confusedly at Sebastian and pouts)_ :** Refresh my memory, pet…

**Sebastian _(smirking and laying Ciel back on the table, all of the cards fluttering off its surface)_ :** With pleasure...

_(The seating dilemma is swiftly forgotten…)_

***

_( As Ciel is putting his clothes back on and Seb is checking on the bird in the oven, the doorbell rings.)_

 **Ciel _(zipping up his trousers and putting his arms through his suspenders)_ :** Sebastian, this is an order: Come clean up the mess you left on this table while I go answer the door. 

**Sebastian _(moving to do as told)_ :** Yes butterfly... _(grumbling under his breath)_ Clean up the mess YOU made Sebastian, oh why yes my lord because I did everything myself… Because I knocked over the cranberry sauce and this is clearly where my plump little bottom was pressed into the mashed potatoes… and the spots left behind on the table, young master, could only be white wine sauce…

**Ciel _(standing behind the door to the dining room, listening with a smirk)_ :** Stop your bitching and get to work, demon. 

**Sebastian:** Why don’t you come in here and make me?

**Ciel _(rolls his eyes and calls Poe off his perch to come onto his shoulder)_ :** See what I have to put up with? 

**Poe _(nuzzling Ciel’s cheek)_ :** How do you think I feel, I’ve spent CENTURIES with his whiny ass. At least he’s a little better now that he gets laid regularly. 

_(Ciel and Poe go answer the door after the bell sounds again. They open the door to find Lucifer, Vincent and Rachel, the first two arguing.)_

**Vincent:** All I’m saying is that it’s courtesy NOT to side-swipe someone turning into a spot just so that you can take it yourself. Now I’m going to have to call my car insurance provider ON Thanksgiving day. 

**Lucifer:** You should count yourself lucky I didn’t wait until you had gotten out of the car or you would be calling your life insurance instead.

**Rachel _(squeezing the bridge of her nose, standing between the two men)_ :** You’re both insufferable, you might as well be married to one another. _(turning to Ciel)_ Hello dear, _(kisses him on both cheeks)_ Hello, Poe _(scratches under his beak)._

**Vincent _(holding up a finger to Ciel as he speaks to someone at Geico, then covers the bottom portion of his phone)_ :** Hello, son, _(he nods to Ciel, then looks at Poe)_ Bird. 

**Poe:** Shitstain… Your hair is looking rather luscious… Would make a lovely addition to my nest.

_(Vincent sputters, clearly affronted by his son’s pet.)_

**Rachel _(smacking her husband behind the head)_ :** Be quiet or **I’ll** make a nest out of your hair Vincent.

**Lucifer _(smiling brightly, leaning in to kiss each of Ciel’s cheeks)_ :** Your skin is so soft, have you been getting facials without me, you little sneak?

**Poe:** Is that a serious question?

**Sebastian _(clearing his throat loudly)_ :** Are we just going to stand in the hallway? The dining room is prepared and _clean_ , sweetling… Unlike your face _(he steps forward and licks his thumb before wiping away the residue from Lucifer’s glossed lips from Ciel’s cheeks vigourously.)_

**Lucifer:** Brother, as anal retentive as ever I see .

**Sebastian _(smiling with false pleasantness)_ :** Lucifer, as obnoxious as ever I see. 

**Rachel:** Enough! I’m positively starving; I haven’t had anything to eat all day because I had to prepare Vincent’s hair and get him dressed. 

**Vincent _(finally getting off his phone)_ :** Rachel…

**Rachel:** Oh, come off it, Vincent. Everybody knows you’ve no taste… _(she drags off her husband and Lucifer to the dining room, leaving Sebastian and Ciel in the entry to two more arrivals)._

_(Sebastian wraps an arm around Ciel’s waist as he pulls open the door to greet Undertaker and Snake.)_

**Undertaker _(offering a rather dubious looking bottle of what he claims is champagne)_ :** Salutations and congratulations! We ‘aven’t missed any o’ the good stuff, ‘ave we?

**Snake:** Hello, says Wordsworth. Hi, lovely to see you standing upright, says Emily. Guten Tag, says Goethe. Where’s the food, I’m starving, says Oscar. You look slightly dishevelled and reek of sex, says Wilde. There better be stuffing, says Webster. I still don’t know how Ciel got someone like Sebastian, says Bronte. I don’t see what he sees in him, says Donne. That’s rather impolite of you both, says Keats. 

**Ciel _(awkwardly)_ :** Welcome?

**Sebastian:** Uncle, Snake and serpentine company, so glad you could make it. Please do retire to the dining room, Lucifer, Vincent and Rachel are already there. We’re just waiting on a few more guests. _(Gestures for them to go down the hall as the doorbell rings again)_ Speak of the devil…

***

_(Ciel and Sebastian return to the dining room twenty minutes after everyone has already been seated. Sebastian is whistling “Hands to Myself” by Selena Gomez and Ciel is looking quite satisfied, but is obviously trying to hide a slight limp. A clump of his navy hair at the front is sticking straight up.) ___

__**Ciel:** So sorry for the wait, we had a few last minute preparations to attend to._ _

___(Lizzie immediately makes eye contact with Ciel and gestures to her own hair in an attempt to silently tell him his own is sticking up suspiciously. Lucifer snorts and takes a sip of his wine, Soma is oblivious while Agni averts his gaze abashedly, Undertaker snickers and Snake whispers a conversation with his companions. Grell looks affronted while Will forcibly holds a hand over his mouth, Rachel looks completely unconcerned while Vincent sputters furiously.)_ _ _

___**Poe:** So there were at least preparations this time. How gentlemanly of you grandpa…_ _ _

___**Ciel:** Does anyone want to say Grace? _(everyone laughs and Ciel looks to Sebastian, shrugging and unconcerned)_ Alright, then why don’t we all go around the table and say what we’re grateful for? Vincent, why don’t you start? _ _ _

___**Vincent:** I’m glad to not be wearing that damned baldcap anymore, and that I’ve been gifted such fantastic hair genes..._ _ _

___**Poe _(leans over to Undertaker from Ciel’s shoulder and whispers)_ :**Hairplugs **Undertaker _(whispers back)_ :** ’Tis ‘is son’s Spongebob fanfic ‘e’s really grateful fer..._ _ _

___**Rachel:** I know I’m grateful for small miracles…_ _ _

___**Sebastian _(looking confused)_ :** And what miracles are those? _ _ _

___**Undertaker:** The Miracle of Matrimony and Life..._ _ _

___**Ciel _(Sebastian and Ciel turn to look at Undertaker)_ :** Pardon me? Life?_ _ _

___**Rachel _(perking up and looking incredibly pleased)_ l:** Yes!!! So you’re not denying the matrimony part?! _ _ _

___**Sebastian _(looks to Ciel and whispers)_ :** Do you want to field this one? I cannot tell a lie…_ _ _

___**Grell _(biting Will’s hand off his mouth, in which everyone hears Will swear for the first time)_ :** WHAAAAAAAAAT?_ _ _

___**Lizzie:** But I was supposed to be the maid of honor?!_ _ _

___**Lucifer:** What makes you think _you_ would be the maid of honor? We get facials together!_ _ _

___**Soma _(sitting next to Lucifer at the kiddy table)_ :** I don’t mind as long as I get to be the flower girl _(Agni reminds Soma that the wedding has already happened to which Soma starts to sob.)_ _ _ _

___**Ciel:** I think I heard the timer on the stove go off… I’ll be right back… _(Ciel excuses himself amidst the squabbling going on at the table, leaving Sebastian behind to fend for himself).__ _ _

___**Sebastian _(deliberately finishes off all of the wine currently on the table)_ :** I think more wine is needed. Please excuse me…_ _ _

____(Ciel is already in the wine cellar sitting on a cask, legs dangling and downing a bottle of 1876 Merlot when Sebastian comes into the wine cellar and slams the door shut)._ _ _ _

___**Sebastian _(tail snaking out and lashing back and forth behind him as his eyes narrow and glow)_ :** That wasn’t very nice butterfly. I think punishment is in order._ _ _

___**Ciel _(sighs and shrugs out of his suspenders, pulling down his pants and bending over the cask he was sitting on)_ :** Very well. _ _ _

___**Sebastian _(reaching between some bottles set on the shelves to retrieve a bottle of lubricant tucked there)_ :** At least you’ve learned better than to argue._ _ _

_____ _

***

_(Rachel goes into the kitchen to start serving the food since Sebastian and her son have been MIA for forty minutes, though she DID notice odd sounds coming from the wine cellar)_

 **Poe _(Perching on Rachel’s shoulder as she removes the turkey from the oven)_ :** You smell close enough to Ciel… I can’t believe they forgot about me again…

**Rachel:** You know, you’ll make a lovely son-in-law for some lucky avian mother… but Ciel is a human, it would never work out between the two of you dear; besides, you don’t want to have to deal with his bullshit melodrama, leave that to Sebastian. 

**Poe _(essentially pouting)_ :** Well it’s not like I expect him to have my chicks or anything. It’s hard you know, I’m attached to them both, especially Ciel. Given how the shithead feels about Ciel, it’s not unreasonable for me to have some of those feelings too, is it? It’s terribly lonely. But Ciel’s promised me a perch in the bedroom and he’s ever so generous with oiling my feathers.

**Rachel:** It doesn’t seem completely unreasonable. _(looks around awkwardly)_ Maybe you just haven’t met the right bird yet, dear. _(she stuffs a few napkins in his mouth to shut him up)_ Please be a sweetheart, and carry these for me to the dining room. 

_(Poe makes a muffled sound, but complies as Rachel begins serving the other still squabbling guests food, even going so far as to serve the glowing orbs that are human souls to the less than human ones, ingrained etiquette and politeness showing as she smiles brightly while doing so. Sebastian and Ciel return moments later looking more relaxed. Sebastian puts a cushion on Ciel’s chair for him without a word and Ciel promptly seats himself with a pleased sigh, reaching for his utensils.)_

**Vincent _(looking at the glowing orbs with disgust as Lucifer serves himself a large helping of them)_ :** Where, pray tell, did you obtain such “delicacies”? 

**Will:** Yes, I would also be interested in knowing how you got your hands on these, wouldn’t you Sweetiepie? _(Will turns to Grell who begins to stuff his face with mashed potatoes)._ You’re suspiciously quiet my love…

**Grell _(thinking about and nearly drooling over the photos Sebastian sent him in the morning in exchange for his month’s worth of soul reaping)_ :** Mmph… 

**Sebastian _(glancing at Grell briefly before turning his attention to the bowl of souls being passed his way from Lucifer down to Snake and Undertaker.)_ :** You aren’t the only one with connections Vincent. 

**Lucifer:** I do hope you remembered to get them gluten-free and without preservatives. You know how sensitive my stomach is.

**Sebastian _(rolling his eyes)_ :** As if I could forget…

_(People thankfully are too busy eating to talk or argue or fight.)_

**Undertaker _(getting up to go to the kitchen and returning with the bottle of champagne he brought with him_ :** Speech! _(he pours a glass for everyone but Vincent, who seems put out being excluded)_

**Soma:** How was there enough in that one bottle for everyone at the table?

**Undertaker:** I know a guy… Speech!

**Sebastian _(sighs, but stands up and raises his glass)_ :** Ahem, well as you all seem to know, Ciel and I have tied the knot so to speak…

**Poe:** Quite literally… for over an hour.

**Soma:** I thought these things took longer than an hour. In India, a wedding lasts for at least three days.

_(Ciel winces)._

**Agni _(Starting to feel the effects of Undertaker’s champagne, walks over to the kiddy table and leans over his master, sliding his hands up and down Soma’s sides)_ :** I’ll show you AT LENGTH this evening my love...

**Lizzie _(with a wicked grin):_** _So what exactly does a wedding for your kind consist of Sebastian?_

_**Sebastian:** Well, you see, it starts with the removal of all barriers between beings and the joining of essences on the most intimate of levels. _

_**Poe:** In layman's terms, they got naked and fucked like it was the revelations. _

_**Vincent _(wide-eyed and distraught)_ :** Where? _(Sebastian blinks at him)_ Where Sebastian?!_

_**Sebastian:** The real question you should be asking is where haven’t we…_

_**Ciel _(purposefully avoiding his father’s glare)_ :** Just get on with your speech…_

_**Sebastian:** Ah yes, where was I… _

_**Grell:** Bassy, it’s not too late to get an annulment._

_**Vincent:** Here here… _(Rachel cuffs him on the back of the head and he abruptly shuts up.)__

_**Ciel _(standing and taking Sebastian by the hand and taps his shoulder for Poe to join them)_ :** We actually have notes in my office for this occasion; we’ll go fetch them and be right back. _

_**Sebastian _(winking at Vincent on the way out of the dining room and mouthing over his shoulder)_ :** On your desk…_

_**Ciel _(leading Sebastian to the office and locks the door behind them, then pushes Sebastian back onto the desk, divesting him of his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles. Poe makes himself comfortable on a coatrack and stares intently.)_ :** You can continue your speech here, my love…_

_**Sebastian _(kneading Ciel’s hips fondly as he climbs over him)_ :** The mingling of our essences is a bond more than the mortal concept of marriage can describe, longer than eternity, unbreakable and impossible to forge. There will be no other. You are my butterfly and your soul is shared between us._

__

***

_(Sebastian and Ciel come back downstairs an hour later to find that Vincent has gone to bed and Lizzie has taken out Cards Against Humanity. Playing this game will be: Sebastian, Ciel, Poe, Grell, Soma, Lizzie and Lucifer; watching: Agni, Undertaker, Rachel, Will and Snake)._

__(Sebastian is the first Card Tzar)_ _

_**Sebastian:** A successful job interview begins with a firm handshake and ends with _____. _

__(The following cards are handed to Sebastian by the other players)_ _

_**Graphic violence, adult language, and some sexual content** _

_**Inappropriate yodeling** _

_**Breaking out into song and dance** _

_**An oversized lollipop** _

_**Butt stuff** _

_**Sudden penis loss** _

_**Sebastian:** I must say I am generally certain I’ve been hired when it ends in _Butt stuff_..._

_**Ciel:** Of course you would; and that was my card by the way! _(leans to his left, rubbing shoulders with Sebastian and whispering)_ I believe we have an interview scheduled for this evening, don’t we? _

_**Sebastian _(leering)_ :** I won’t be late._

_**Soma _(who is the next card Tzar looks at the card in utter confusion)_ :** Do I still read it if I don't understand what it's asking?_

__(Agni, who is spectating, picks Soma up and sits him on his lap to save himself the time from having to get up every time his master doesn’t know. Still under the influence of Undertaker’s champagne, he rolls his hips up into Soma to demonstrate the card’s meaning. When he STILL doesn’t understand, he cups his bandaged hand to the innocent young man’s ear to whisper an explanation to him._ _

_**Soma:** Oh! Ooh! That’s an odd word for such a delicate appendage. Alright… here’s the card… What killed my boner?_

__(The following cards are handed to Soma by the other players)_ _

_**Vegetarian options** _

_**The Little Engine That Could** _

_**Circumcision** _

_**Dining with cardboard cutouts of the cast of “Friends”** _

_**The tiniest shred of evidence that God is real** _

_**Soma:** Most of these answers don't make sense… _(rereads cards)_ Who picked vegetarian options? I love vegetarian options, if anything that would to the opposite to my “boner”. _

__(Ciel and Poe are shaking their heads in disgust)_ _

_**Poe:** There’s something funda **mentally** wrong with that one._

_**Soma:** And what about this little engine… what _could_ it do? That might certainly make a difference? _

_**Grell:** Who let this child play? _(plucks a random card out of Soma’s hand without reading it)_ There… that’s the winning card. _

_**Soma:** Circumcision? It’s because it has the word “cum” isn’t it? _

_**Sebastian:** I imagine it would be a rather unpleasant form of foreplay._

_**Poe:** Understatement. Makes me glad my junk is on the inside._

_**Lucifer and Grell:** Kinky. _

_**Lizzie:** That’s a win for me. _(She takes the black card from Soma)_ Thanks!_

_**Lucifer _(picks a black card from the deck and clears his throat to read it aloud)_ :** Puberty is a time of change. You might notice hair growing in new places. You might develop an interest in ________. This is normal. _

__(The following cards are handed to Lucifer by the other players)_ _

_**The gays** _

_**Some really fucked-up shit** _

_**Tiger Woods** _

_**All my friends dying** _

_**Horrifying hair removal accidents** _

_**Sexting demons _(Written on a blank card)_ ** _

_**Lucifer:** Sexting demons, you say… Sounds like someone we know..._

__(Ciel looks around to see who else has been sexting demons)_ _

__(Only Agni is looking down and blushing.)_ _

_**Sebastian:** The writing looks familiar. I believe that’s another win for the young lady. I’m beginning to see why you are so well liked miss Elizabeth. _

_**Poe:** A girl after my own heart._

__(Lizzie puts out her fist to bump Soma’s, who leaves her hanging, unsure what she’s trying to do)_ _

_**Lizzie _(Whose Turn It is to be the tzar)_ :** What’s making things awkward in the sauna?_

__(Responses given are as follows)_ _

_**Scrubbing under the folds** _

_**A balanced breakfast** _

_**Stranger danger** _

_**The eighth graders** _

_**Making the penises kiss** _

_**Claude Faustus** _

_**Lizzie _(giggling)_ :** Making the penises kiss. _

_**Soma:** Do penii have lips to kiss? _

_**Sebastian:** Depends on who they belong to._

_**Grell:** Ours could kiss anytime Bassy._

_**Sebastian:** No thank you… I believe yours has teeth. _

_**Ciel:** Wait? All this time, you’ve been a dude?_

_**Poe:** You can’t be serious… Your eyepatch is impairing your vision._

__(Grell pouts, but takes his winning card while everyone laughs, including William, though it’s really all in jest.)_ _

_**Sebastian:** When you get right down to it, _____ is just ______. _

__(He receives these answers.)_ _

_**Mom’s new boyfriend, Dad in a Spongebob costume** _

_**Jizz, A fancy dessert in disguise** _

_**Ciel’s first pet, Vincent’s baldcap _(handwritten on a blank card)_** _

_**The day the birds attacked, Wet Dreams** _

_**A disappointing salad, my genitals** _

_**A bitchin black bird, A piss poor feather duster** _

_**Sebastian _(smirking at Ciel as he picks the first response card)_ :** For some of us, the truth is the most comical._

_**Undertaker:** How right ya’re... _

_**Ciel:** What’s that supposed to mean? _

_**Poe:** Don’t play dumb; it’s unattractive. _(takes the winning card from Sebastian, ruffling his feathers smugly.)__

_**Ciel:** Listen here, feather duster… _

_**Lizzie _(grinning and nudging Ciel)_ :** He has a point… It only works for Soma… _

_**Agni:** I concur. Makes for many teachable moments. _

_**Poe _(clearing his throat as only a bird can before reading out his next question)_ :** What’s fun until it gets weird?_

_**Your master getting it on with his YOUNG master…(on a blank card)** _

_**Demonic possession** _

_**A snapping turtle biting the tip of your penis** _

_**Tentacle porn** _

_**Ejaculating inside another man’s wife** _

_**Carnies** _

_**Poe:** Why is there not an option for all of the above?_

_**Grell:** How is tentacle porn ever weird? You know what you are? A tentaclist!_

_**Ciel _(petting Poe and whispering to him)_ :** I don’t see how the first answer is even an issue, you’ve never complained about it before..._

_**Poe:** It’s like watching your brother fucking your crush. Disgusting… That’s the winner by the way._

__(Undertaker begins humming “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield while Sebastian smirks smugly.)_ _

_**Ciel _(elbows Sebastian)_ :** Be nice… or else I’ll cancel your interview._

_**Sebastian _(gropes Ciel’s thigh under the table)_ :** I’ll show you how nice I can be love._

_**Poe:** You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about… It’s traumatic. _

_**Lizzie:** Ahem, I’ll just be taking that as another win for me… I can’t say I agree with your sentiments Poe._

__(The game continues on long into the night over several more refills of Undertaker’s seemingly unending bottle of champagne, a lot of banter, snacks, and snark from all those present. Lizzie ends up taking home the victory.)_ _

____

***

_(Finally, everyone is tucked away in bed for the night, only to be woken or kept awake by some rather interesting sounds coming from the master bedroom in which Ciel and Sebastian and Poe had retired.)_

__(In the master bedroom, Ciel is trussed up in assless chaps, a cowboy hat with a kerchief around his neck and riding crop in hand while Sebastian is gagged and tied to the bed while Poe is on his perch reading chapter 128 of Kuroshitsuji with headphones on, head bobbing to the beat.)_ _

_**Ciel _(snapping the riding crop against Sebastian’s shapely thigh, and removing his gag)_ :** Giddy up! _

_**Sebastian _(making various horse noises)_ :** Saddle up cowgirl, it’s going to be a wild ride._

_**Ciel _(crawls onto the bed and straddles Sebastian) _:__** __Yippy ki yay mother fucker! _(having already had sex multiple times that day, Ciel was sufficiently prepped)_ This is an order Sebastian: You won’t restrain your voice this evening. _ _ _

____(Sebastian obeys, the horse sounds, growls and various other noises accompanied by the slapping of skin against skin and the cracking of the riding crop echoing through the entire upper floor… Who are we kidding, the entire house can hear…)_ _ _ _

_____**Lucifer’s room** : Lucifer’s mate, a certain Archangel has finally arrived, sneaking directly into the room through the window. Not wanting to be outdone by Sebastian and Ciel, Lucifer proceeds to demand his mate to get it on as well._ _ _ _ _

_____**Soma and Agni’s room:** Soma asks if Ciel has a petting zoo he didn’t know about and Agni is more than happy to introduce him to what he calls “Balogna Pony” to make due for the evening_ _ _ _ _

_____**Lizzie’s room:** There is silence aside from an insistent buzzing.)_ _ _ _ _

_____**Undertaker and Snake’s room:** Undertaker is laughing while tickling his mate while Snake squirms and attempts to keep from giggling and Snake’s snakes are making conversation about the various sounds in the house._ _ _ _ _

_____**Grell and Will’s room:** Grell is rocking back and forth, ugly crying while Will is recording all the overtime hours he’s had to put in for this Thanksgiving dinner._ _ _ _ _

_____**Vincent and Rachel’s room:** Vincent is clenching the sheets in his hands so hard, his knuckles are white and his eyes are wide, a deep frown on his face. Rachel seems rather exuberant and retires to the bathroom only to return moments later dressed as Squidward with a spongebob costume in her hands, prompting her husband that if you can’t beat them, might as well join them._ _ _ _ _

_____(In the end, the dinner was a resounding success and everyone is thankful to have the weekend off from filming and be living happily.)_ _ _ _ _


	18. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter is: Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food
> 
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian: [ I Wanna by The All-American Rejects](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qwm7crkV124)  
> Ciel~ [Starving by Hailee Steinfeld](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwjwCFZpdns)

It had gotten colder overnight as if the fire in his room had long gone out. Ciel shivered under his familiar down comforter and rubbed his eyes lazily with the back of his hand before cracking one cautiously open and peering about, glad the dull grey late November sky didn’t allow for the morning light to seep through the windows. It was too quiet on the estate grounds for it not to have snowed; for with the snow came a distinctive hush on the property, a silence that was both calming and haunting, an absence of winter bird song and a muffling of hooves and neighing in the nearby stables. It was too quiet, save for the small, dulcet rumbling that came from behind him. 

A sated sigh escaped his lips as they curled into a smile. His lover’s warmth brushed against him, and Ciel nuzzled into the heat, coveting it; it belonged to him now, as did every inch of the intricately scaled patterns that embraced his lover’s body. To see Sebastian’s true form had been one thing, but the fact that he’d allowed himself to be completely vulnerable, not only to lie next to a sleeping mortal, but to lose himself to sleep involved a fair amount of vulnerability.

Sebastian shifted against Ciel, a smile curling onto his lips. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know his mate’s were on him; he could _feel_ them. He curled a hand around Ciel’s waist and pulled him in as dark lit and lazy crimson peeked through his lashes finally. He remained in his true form, had let himself drift in a sleepscape while he’d been so warm and content. For the first time in perhaps as long as he’d existed, he’d rested without wanting; he’d known peace, been made whole in ways he’d not known he could be. It was familiar as if it’d always been inside him, like some bizarre deja vu, but he could not remember a time when he’d felt it previously; there were no other souls like Ciel’s so it must be mistaken somehow or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was how one was meant to feel when they’d properly bonded to their chosen mate. He didn’t care to analyze it further or dwell on it, other more pleasant things took precedence.

The marks that had marred his skin like tar thick and webbed in his veins had faded to nothing, porcelain and smoky scale left unblemished in their wake and he no longer felt the weakness it’d cultivated in him. Ciel had given of himself to heal him, had sought to make him whole again and so he had succeeded. They were forgiven, stronger for it and bound tighter than they’d ever been. Ironically, Sebastian had never felt so free as he did bound and shackled to his butterfly, newlywed vows branded into their very essences. His lover had made himself the cage in which to hold the fallen angel, gilded in flesh and blood, and stubborn adoration, both divine and unholy, but more comfortable than even heaven had been; Ciel had made a cage Sebastian could call home inside him, though he likely didn’t realize just what he’d done. But even that did not matter; they had time for him to understand.

As he felt fingertips tracing over the smooth scale and skin on his chest, his attention was drawn back to his mate that was very much awake and watching him. His smile broadened and he purred appreciatively, kneading at the young man’s side with tender fingertips while a clever tail shifted beneath the sheets to curl itself around Ciel’s calf possessively. “Good morning sweetling, did you sleep well?” he greeted, his voice husky and low as it rumbled in his chest.

“Good morning indeed,” Ciel muttered groggily, unable to pry his gaze from his lover. Sebastian was as lovely as his vague recollections from the previous night, or maybe made more so by the peace that now emanated from him. “I did sleep well, did you?” he asked, bringing a hand up to gently tangle at the longer locks of hair that framed the demon’s face and wincing slightly as he did. “I didn’t know demons slept, but if this is going to become a habit, you’ll have to do something about that snoring,” he smirked. His voice held none of the defensive snark it usually did, instead it denoted a certain playfulness and ease that had lingered since the evening- the way it usually did with Lizzie or Soma. Something had shifted in their relationship and Ciel felt for the first time that he could be himself around the demon, that the walls he’d built, a veritable fortress for his heart, had been breached and he couldn’t be happier for it. 

He stretched his back, arching into Sebastian and groaned. He felt so stiff; as with their last fevered coupling, he became aware of muscles and bones he didn’t even know he possessed. “Gonna need those unholy perks of yours again,” he said, guiding the hands that affectionately caressed his sides to the small of his back.

“Spoiled,” Sebastian hummed amusedly, letting Ciel guide his soothing fingers to the attractive dip at the base of his spine. He inhaled and exhaled a soft breath before he responded to his mate’s previous observation. “We don’t require sleep, but even we like to dream sometimes. It’s not often I find the time to partake in such pleasures. I’ll make habit of it if you allow me. Was I really making such noises as you claim?” he said, watching Ciel with a knowing and affectionately amused look behind the sanguine depths.

Ciel’s eyes crinkled as he beamed, thoroughly charmed and delighted by the slight shift of the demon’s eyes, betraying Sebastian’s momentary lapse of self-consciousness. “Oh, it was _atrocious_ , like having a front row seat to a Blitzkrieg in my very own bedroom… but even then, your proximity is worth the infernal racket, so I’ll allow it.” Smiling, he pressed his lips to his mate’s chest and made faint pleasurable sounds as the demon worked his magic, kneading and massaging him. “What do demons dream about? Shackling sinners to rafters and having their way with them? All-you-can-eat baby buffets? No, wait- fluffy persian kittens running in a sun-soaked field of daisies?”

A soft snort sounded from Sebastian, but he didn’t bother calling his mate’s obvious bluff. He highly doubted he’d made any sound in slumber considering he could stop his breath altogether if that were the case, but he was content enough to let the boy have his fun. He slid his hands up Ciel’s back, spread on either side of his spine and back down again in a tender petting motion before doing it again. “The last scenario sounds most lovely and is closest to true, at least for myself. I don’t know what others dream of, but I dream of peace. Simple places where it’s warm and comfortable; I can leave but always return and be welcomed back. It’s familiar, but ever changing and I could never tire of it. What do you dream of butterfly?” he answered with a sort of nostalgic and decidedly warm smile still lingering on his lips.

Ciel tilted his head to get a better look at Sebastian, toying with the idea that the demon might be putting him on with his response; but the face he adored was in repose, and showed no sign of teasing. A soft crease made itself at home in Ciel’s brow as he wistfully reminisced about the peaceful, uninterrupted sleep he’d been granted as a child; how he’d dreamed of fanciful imaginary places with lush gardens, of thornless roses and tear-like lilies, of scents fragrancing the air, glorious winged celestial guardians and mates, of being held and loved and cherished, a completeness, a glow, and a growing belly full of life… He shook his head, explaining the dream away by recalling the many times his mother had read to him from more child-friendly passages of the Bible before he’d slept.

By the time he’d been shipped off to Italy, those pleasant dreams had stopped, only to be replaced by disquiet, distorted figures, loved ones being possessed and crimson depths he’d mistakenly interpreted at the time as sinister. “Just human nonsense,” he said, wetting his lips as he wrapped both arms around Sebastian’s neck and draped a slender leg over the demon’s body. “I can’t make any sense of them, but I’m sure Freud would have had a field day with it.”

Sebastian’s tail slithered up further on Ciel’s leg as the young man slipped it over the demon’s hips, and looped loosely around Ciel’s naked thigh, the tip ticklishly teasing over his hip. Sebastian’s hands continued to stroke his skin, soothing away any lingering pain and spreading that pleasant numbness in the wake of his fingertips as he lazily drew intricate patterns over the soft flesh. “Perhaps it is nonsense, but dreams are the foundation of freedom. Even those in the most restrictive of captivity can still dream, butterfly and there is something romantic in that. Something hopeful and bittersweet. Do you ever dream about me sweetling?”

“Fishing for compliments now, are we?” Ciel asked, cocking an eyebrow, petting the portion of tail wrapped around his thigh lazily with one finger. “I had one only a few nights ago; you were my headmaster,” he smirked wickedly, feeling a faint stirring at the mention of it, “But other than that, I don’t think I do… ” The tail loosened its grip from his thigh, but only just; the demon was trying to conceal his displeasure at the young man's answer. His free hand crept through the longer locks of Sebastian’s true form and to the back of his head, bringing them close enough that he could feel his mate’s breath wash over his face, “Don’t be like that, love, I can’t control what I dream about… Listen, if dreams are the foundation of freedom, Sebastian, then fantasizing is arming the captive with wings; and trust me since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve pretty much made the sky my home.”

Sebastian’s smile returned, broad and perhaps a tad wicked as sharp fangs glinted between the press of his lips. “I didn’t think you could be so eloquent sweetling,” he teased, tilting his head to the side as Ciel’s fingers threaded through the back of his hair. And he didn’t say, but he was certain he’d been dreaming of the young man, his mate, all the times he’d slept in the vast centuries he could recall, not in the physical sense, but the feeling was the same in the dreams as it was just now while he was awake. His wings shifted behind him, rustling softly as they settled more comfortably and his tail twitched playfully against Ciel’s fingertip, encouraging the light caressing against the leathery appendage and sending pleasant tingles beneath the demon’s skin.

“You shit, Sebastian!” Ciel groused, pushing the demon away playfully. “So you think I’m just a pretty face? I’m hurt.” Ciel crossed his arms, a corner of his mouth twitching as he attempted to repress a grin. He could get used to this, could let this routine play out daily and not get bored, it was easy, familiar and comforting, like slipping into a warm bath. But before the smile crept to his eyes to give him away, he felt the weight of the timeline he’d imposed on their contract bear down on his delight; and to think they’d almost squandered a whole month getting to this point. Sebastian had said he’d wanted to keep him much longer than that, but after a year they would be no longer bound, the demon would be free to go where he pleased, and Ciel was certain that there were places he would both not be able to or want to follow his lover. If he could just get his hands on those ingredients for Undertaker, that might help, might strengthen their bond… Surely if Sebastian felt as strongly as he did, he would never leave… He would put it out of his mind for now, would not let his anguish show; after all, he had eleven months to sort out the details and he didn’t want to ruin the levity of the current mood.

Sebastian sensed the ripple in their bond where Ciel’s mood had shifted for just a moment, but he didn’t ask after it, sure that his mate would eventually have no more doubts, even passing ones. Instead, he slid hands down to Ciel’s backside and palmed at the plump cheeks, drawing the young man back in, coaxing him onto his back so he could hover over him, wings caging them in. “You are so much more than a pretty face butterfly. You’re a pretty soul,” he murmured as his eyes glittered through his dark lashes and dimmed light and he leaned in to press a kiss to already rouged lips.

“Not good enough, love, I'm still hurt…” Ciel protested, turning his head away, denying the demon his kiss even though his own lips craved to be claimed. He gave Sebastian an expectant sidelong glance as he innocently brought up his knee, letting it rub against the demon’s hardening length, “How are you going to make it up to me?”

Sebastian caught Ciel’s leg under his knee and drew it up as he ducked down, shifting back on the bed so he could press a kiss to the young man’s smooth kneecap, all the while looking up at Ciel through his lashes. “Well, I am feeling a little peckish,” he breathed huskily, lips still brushing ticklishly against his mate’s skin.

“Oh?” Ciel’s voice quivered, goosebumps rising under Sebastian’s lips as his arousal was making itself known, glistening, swollen and begging for attention. Five minutes ago, he'd been perfectly sated, now he felt starved under the devil’s scrutiny. His pulse beat a little quicker as he squirmed in anticipation, “Am I on the menu, Sebastian?”

“Mm, I suppose you are. Pressed and spread butterfly does sound delicious if I do say so myself,” Sebastian affirmed huskily, his forked tongue flickering over Ciel’s inner thigh for a teasing taste. His hands slid along the young man’s outer thighs to his hips and then beneath to grope his backside and shift his pelvis as he liked, peppering more kisses, sharp nips and ticklish swipes of his tongue along the smooth flesh of his mate’s inner thigh, avoiding his now eagerly straining arousal as he mapped his way to Ciel’s other leg to leave more marks and goosebumps in his wake, revelling in the sharp inhales and shuddering exhales of Ciel’s breaths. “Do you want to be devoured sweetling?”

Ciel propped himself up onto his elbows, looking between his thighs at that smug, self-satisfied expression and those crimson eyes, bright with lust, that burned brighter the more he teased. It was a sight that made him weak and he felt Sebastian’s grip tighten as his thighs began to quiver. No one in the history of mates could have ever been this salacious and maddening at once. As one hand fisted the sheets, the other reached out and thread through the inky hair, then gripped it firmly, forcing Sebastian’s head away from his thighs and towards his erection. “What I want is for you to stop teasing me and get on with it, demon.”

Sebastian tsked quietly from between Ciel’s legs, looking up at him, a low rumbling purr of pleasure rolling in his chest as the young man’s fingers curled in his hair almost viciously, his tail lashing back and forth restlessly as his wings shifted stiffly with his own desire. “Say pretty please Ciel and I might be persuaded,” he murmured, breath cooling the dampness his mouth had left on his mate’s naked skin and he smiled wickedly as he saw Ciel’s cock twitch and felt the shiver that shuddered through him.

Ciel’s eyes widened in indignation. “What?! Sebastian! How dare… your begging kink has to… goddamn you… just… ugh!” He collapsed back onto his pillow and bit his pout lip in frustration. He took his own shaft in hand, and felt it pulse a staccato rhythm that matched his heartbeat. “Fuck!” It was no good. What he wanted was his mate’s lips screwed around his cock; the arousal that curled in his gut demanded it, needed it **now** and rutting into his own fist, his length sliding in and out at a desperate pace wasn't going to be enough. He turned his head to the side and muffled an almost inaudible “Please,” into the plush pillow.

The demon chuckled softly, flicking the tip of his tongue over Ciel’s knuckles as the youth tried to futilely find relief in his own hand. “I didn’t quite catch that. Did you say _pretty please_ my love?” he inquired, though there was no doubt that he had indeed heard everything that had left Ciel’s mouth. He was deliberately taunting his mate, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it even if he’d tried. It was so good to be properly desired by his chosen bonded, to have no inhibitions between them in this. 

“Should just let you starve,” Ciel muttered into the pillow. His face burned with the indignity of having to beg his mate- again; but he’d let the demon win, because he was so damned good at everything he did. Even the way he was running his long clawed fingers along his naked, bucking hips, and gripped the flexing globes of his rear as he squirmed was more satisfying than the feeling of his own hand relentlessly pumping his cock. He’d find relief this way, but not pleasure, so he let go of himself and came back up onto his elbows panting, “I need you, _please_ ,” the roughness of his own voice sounded more sultry and less desperate, at least to his own ears, “I’ve never desired anyone like this before; take me in your mouth, devour me, make me spend, taste me, please… _Pretty please_.”

A low purring growl rolled through Sebastian’s chest like thunder in a distant storm and he bowed over Ciel to press a kiss to his right hip, tongue and breath tickling against the flesh and along the crease where thigh met pelvis. His wings snapped out overhead, balancing him and shuddering, evidence of his own pleasure for his mate’s words. “You need not be ashamed to plead my love; your begging voice enslaves me as surely as your mark stains my skin. It is not weakness but equal in power to my desire to hear it from your lips,” he breathed over the young man’s quivering belly to his other hip, repeating his affection there before he finally brought his mouth to Ciel’s throbbing manhood, curling his long tongue around its base firmly.

Ciel meant to reply, opened his mouth to answer, instead he cried out as he felt the demon’s tongue constrict the base of his arousal. His eyes dropped to Sebastian’s devilish mouth and as he watched the forked tongue dart out so did his own to wet his own lips. “Why, my _pet_ , Mmm,” he confided through clenched teeth, unable to stop himself from savagely fisting Sebastian’s dishevelled hair, forcing him to look up, “Would I have anything to be ashamed of when it comes to you?” then slackened his grip, but was unable to let go as his fingers trembled with arousal.

The demon hummed appreciatively, languidly drawing his tongue up the length of Ciel’s shaft, lapping up the transparent rivulets of precum that had accumulated and trailed down the pulsing flesh. He flicked his tongue over the blunted tip teasingly before he responded in a husky murmur, “Why indeed…” Before the young man could even attempt to protest or reply, Sebastian took his cock into his mouth, tongue tickling along the underside as he drew the shaft further in with practiced ease, mindful of his teeth and already applying subtle suction. He purred his approval of the flavour of his mate and of the spasmodic clenching of Ciel’s fingers in his hair as he began to bob over the member, his own hands alternately kneading and petting at his mate’s thighs and bottom. 

“Ah… Sebastian!” Ciel rocked his hips, eagerly pushing himself as deeply into his lover’s mouth as the demon allowed. As silky lips slid over his member, engulfing and coating him in something both warmer and thicker than saliva, his erection tingled and throbbed pleasurably, pulling more whining, desperate pleas from him. His voice came out in harsh, breathy pants, and the more he begged, the more soft tendrils of his mate’s carnal scent intoxicated and aroused him. “Please, Se-Sebastian! So good… d-don’t stop, please…”

Sebastian’s tongue curled and slithered, flickering mischievously against Ciel’s manhood as he continued to mouth at it, varying the pressure and suction and relishing in the wanton sounds his lover was producing in response to his ministrations. His fingers crept beneath the young man and between the soft cheeks to tease at his entrance while he allowed Ciel to thrust into his throat unhindered, continuing to purr and hum approvingly. It was entirely intoxicating and his own cock throbbed and pulsed viciously with want, though he did nothing to combat it, absorbed in the act of undoing his mate completely and eager to devour his inevitable release.

Ciel fisted the bed sheets, pulling them from where they had been neatly tucked in as his heels dug into the bed. He became impossibly harder, swelled with his mate’s continued passionate caressing fingers, “Stop being so quiet… M-make noise Sebastian… Ah! I want t-to hear you…”

A sound that was suspiciously akin to a muffled chuckle vibrated from within Sebastian’s chest and through Ciel’s member before the demon shifted slightly, increasing the suction for moments before releasing it altogether, using his tongue in the most deliciously torturous manner and moaning gutturally as his mate had ordered as he repeated the pattern. His fingertips pressed and rubbed firmly against the young man’s fluttering hole as Ciel squirmed and bucked beneath him, whining and panting heatedly. So lovely…

The combination of Sebastian’s low, growling moan and his long fingers pressed teasingly, tenderly at his eager entrance, nearly pushed Ciel over the edge. “Stop! Stop!” he cried out in sensual shock, raw desire tainting each word that fell from his lips. He was too close, his member so swollen and throbbing that he could feel every serration of his mate's teeth, every ridge of his palate, every fleshy inch of the demon’s forked tongue, “I can’t… I can’t…” His limbs began to quiver, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten… and his brain barely registered the small click of the door handle accompanied by “Cieeeeeeeeel! Oh god! You’re hurt! I’m coming in to help!”

Sebastian made another encouraging sound and continued despite Ciel’s desperate protests. His mate didn’t really mean them. He was so immersed in what he was doing that he almost missed the sudden approach of unexpected and currently unwelcome visitors. It was only the fact that he was far from human that he was able to cloak his true form, though shadows of it would remain to be seen by his mate, though they would be unknown to anyone without the sight. He managed to yank the sheets over himself and Ciel before Soma came bursting into the room with Agni in hot pursuit. He drew them up over his head and pressed himself closer, flush with his lover’s body beneath the covers, Ciel’s erection trapped between them and pulsing angrily. 

“Young Master, it appears that the Lady of the house might have some idea of Ciel’s whereab- Oh, dear...” The khansama stopped abruptly, rocking back on his heels behind his prince and hastily put one hand over his charge’s eyes, and one over his own .

Soma shook his head, trying to dislodge the bandaged hand from his eyes; didn’t his servant hear his best friend’s desperate pleas for someone to stop? He tried moving forward but was held solidly in place; no, no longer in place, a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist, lifting him from the soft, plush carpet and started moving him blindly towards the door he’d practically knocked down. “Agni, what are you... set me down!… Lizzie! He’s here! In his bedroom! I think he’s hurt, hurry- bring the first aid kit!”

 

Ciel wasn’t sure whether he should be embarrassed, enraged or frustrated. _All three_ , he thought, _definitely, all three_. He’d not stopped panting, and his naked flushed need burned as surely as his face did. He could no sooner paste a look of calm on his face than make the throbbing ache go away. Whitened knuckles clutched at the fabric of his duvet as he brought it to his face, peering over at the scene that unfolded, “How could you forget to lock the door?” he asked Sebastian acidically through clenched teeth. 

Sebastian gave Ciel’s hip a sharp nip in retaliation for his scathing tone, one hand slowly caressing along his inner thigh to palm at his still very much interested erection, unconcerned about the audience they seemed to be accumulating. “Apologies, I was a little distracted at the time,” he whispered lowly from beneath the blankets, heated breath washing over Ciel’s lower half and making his sensitive cock twitch.

Lizzie came bustling down the hall, a little first aid pouch held tightly in her hands, a look of concern on her face. She was afraid Ciel’s strange sickness had returned and it showed in her expression as she stumbled into the room, nearly tripping and smashing right into Soma and Agni, who was covering both of their eyes and attempting to pull the younger male from the room despite Soma’s vehement protests.

She stopped short, looking to Ciel’s bed and finding him most certainly not sick or hurt and most definitely not alone. Her eyes went comically wide and her face exploded with heat, blush burning a wide swath across her cheeks. “Holy shit! Ciel are you-- Is that-- Sebastian?”

There was a soft chuckle from the obvious lump beneath Ciel’s bedding and the familiar voice of the older man came muffled and amused through the barrier keeping him and Ciel’s modesty, “Your powers of deduction are profoundly astute Miss Elizabeth. If you’d be so kind, I’d like to finish what I started.” 

Lizzie mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish as her wide eyes sought Ciel’s and her blush intensified tenfold. She’d heard them before; she should have known.  
Ciel elbowed Sebastian under the sheets as Soma’s interrogation and Agni’s vague and awkward answers could still be heard as they got farther from his bedroom. “But I don't understand, Agni! Why are we leaving instead of helping? Who is in there with Ciel? Is this person that Ciel wants to _stop_? Why aren't _we_ stopping this individual, Agni? Wait? Is Sebastian Ciel’s new pet? He mentioned a pet last night! I want to play with the puppy, Agni!”

Whatever the manservant told his friend afterwards must have been enough to satisfy his curiosity because he no longer heard Soma; and while Lizzie wasn’t making any noise, she was no nearer leaving now than she was a minute ago. “You’re not getting an invitation, Lizzie, get out! Please! And for the love of god, lock the door!” He winced at the sound of his own voice, quivering and frenzied rather than the demanding tone he’d hoped for. And the bastard under the sheets certainly didn’t help by cupping his already tightened sac with one hand and brushing his pulsing member with the back of the other. Ciel let out an involuntary moan in his cousin’s presence and pulled the duvet over his head in embarrassment; his arousal hadn’t decreased in the least with the sudden outbursts and he was still so close. “Just go! Please!”

An appreciative hum sounded from Sebastian as Ciel tried futilely to resist letting any pleasured sounds escape him, failing as he moaned out loud. His desperate demand for his cousin to leave made Sebastian smile wickedly, garnet depths glittering as he looked up at his mate beneath the covers, trailing his tongue up the underside of Ciel’s manhood with deliberate slowness as he watched him intently. 

Lizzie jolted with a start, her heart beating madly as heat warmed her skin and she felt a little faint, belatedly realizing just how inappropriate her continued presence was. “Sorry, sorry, sorry… I’ll uh… Leave you two to it then. Enjoy!” she said in a somewhat breathy tone, her own embarrassment and maybe a little cheeky intrigue making itself known in her words and voice as she quickly retreated from the room, locking the door and closing it tightly behind her as her cousin had requested. She leaned back against it, closing her eyes as she pressed a hand to her breast and took a steadying breath and sighed it out. Another high, shuddering moan from beyond the door had her nearly jumping out of her skin and she bit her lip as she stood there for another long moment, debating the merits of staying to listen in again before she abruptly shook her head and hurried away to her own room to calm her fluttering heart.

Ciel’s embarrassment dissipated the moment Sebastian continued with his clever tongue, pulling from his own lips, some of the most sinful words and sounds he'd ever uttered. He kicked his feet, pushing the blankets and letting them fall off the side of the bed and wiggled his way almost into a sitting position, very much enjoying the sight of his bonded pleasuring him this way; he'd definitely have to consider installing floor to ceiling mirrors in the near future. He pet Sebastian's head lazily as it bobbed, tensing and twisting his hand around the inky strands when his lover gave a subtle suck to his glans, letting his own groans and pants encourage the demon.

The demon purred and growled his approval of the sounds and the desperate motions of his mate as Ciel arched and squirmed beneath him. He allowed the erratic, frenzied bucking of his hips without hesitation, hands encouraging as they returned to groping at his thighs and backside. He did not mind the decidedly pleasant pressing of his mate’s stiffness further down his smooth, slick throat, swallowing around it intently before pulling back with rough suction and fanciful maneuvers of his forked tongue. He repeated the pattern again, dragging the most exquisite sounds from his little lover as he steadily drew him closer to his peak, eager to taste his essence again.

Ciel’s legs shook as something akin to flames licked at his insides. He smoothed a hand down his chest, as though it would keep them at bay, instead his thumb running over a peaked right nipple had the opposite effect. “Ah… so close, Sebastian… s-so close…” With a speed he’d not anticipated, his lover’s hand flew out and clutched his own, wrapping his smaller fingers around the base of the mortal’s wet, swollen arousal and squeezing harshly. He watched, completely transfixed as the demon guided his hand up along the shaft and down again at a controlled speed, stopping short of the head as he continued alternating between licking and sucking the angry glistening tip. 

“Se-Sebastian!” He should be ashamed of how loud, how demanding his cries were, but as he’d told his lover previously, he’d nothing to be ashamed of when it came to him; and the demon’s abilities when it came to pleasure were nothing short of heavenly, “Sebastian! Oh god! Yes!” 

There came three soft raps on the door, followed by someone clearing their throat. “For fuck’s sake, Soma! Go away!” Ciel growled as he pressed himself deeper into Sebastian’s mouth, having to strangle the base of his cock so that his friend wouldn’t hear him reach his climax. 

Rachel stood outside the mahogany door, tapping her foot impatiently, not surprised by what she found given Agni’s awkward silence, Soma’s look of utter confusion and Lizzie’s flushed and frazzled behavior as they had returned to the dining room without her son in tow. She cleared her throat again, annoyed that he’d been disrespectful and had failed to show his guests proper Phantomhive hospitality. “The fact that you are using God’s name in the same sentence as the demon’s while he’s debauching you is an utter sacrilege, Ciel Phantomhive.” 

And that was all that was needed. The familiar scolding tone and punctuated articulation of her voice did in under five seconds what the past half hour had failed to do: sober both his mind and his manhood. And yet, it wasn’t his mother’s usual manner to talk to him in such a way; she had just about as much disregard for god as he did, “M-Mom?”  
“I’m glad that at the very least my voice brings you back to reason,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she exhaled loudly, “I have something for you and it seems rather urgent. Open the door.” 

“Um, yeah… just let me put something on,” he replied in a small quivering voice.

Sebastian growled as they were interrupted once again and huffed his annoyance when Rachel’s voice came through the door, his mate immediately stiffening and losing his arousal swiftly. He rolled off of Ciel and stretched himself out on the bed on his side, propping his head up on one hand while his other rested lazily over his own hip where the sheets covered his nudity. He watched the young man through hooded wine coloured depths, his inhuman features only bare shadows that could be seen by his mate, but no other. A soft disappointed sigh passed through his lips, but he didn’t say anything, hardly offended by Rachel’s words and only cursing her poor timing. It seemed he would be going hungry this morning. 

Ciel got out of bed awkwardly, mouthing a _sorry_ to his mate as he did so. His legs felt like jelly as he strode the length of the room and yanked his bathrobe that had been slung precariously over the privacy screen with such force that it fell over and crashed onto the floor, shattering part of the frame. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he grumbled as he pulled on the soft wooly garment, “Sorry! I’m coming... No! Fuck, I mean… I’ll be right there, Mom!” 

Reaching the door, he unlocked it with trembling hands and rubbed the back of his neck as he inched the door open only a gap large enough to see part of her stern face glaring back at him. 

“Mind your _tongue_ when you’re speaking to your mother, Ciel...” she chastised him as she pushed her left foot through the little space he’d allowed; the briskness of her actions unsteadied him enough to allow her access into his bedroom. While it made little difference to her who _Sebastian_ mated with, she _had_ made a promise to keep an annoyingly close watch on him and to thwart his and Ciel’s couplings when possible. The stench of their union permeated the room, with the demon’s arousal thick and musky in the air. She wrinkled her nose and resisted the impulse to pull up her collar to cover half her face- _disgusting_. Careful not to step where the glass had smashed onto the floor, she stalked to the large window, and threw it open. 

She glanced at her son, who stood there dumbfounded, decidedly not making eye contact with her as he tried to remove non-existent wrinkles from his bathrobe, then at the smug seducer looking much too comfortable in his bed. Tilting her head, she admired the demon’s form; she could definitely see the allure, even if his human guise covered up what was most attractive. She knew her lingering gaze wouldn’t make the traitor uncomfortable, but she felt her son shift from one foot to the other, impatiently waiting for her to leave. “Here, this came for you this morning,” she said, handing him the vile blue missive he’d received in the post, its foul odor almost rivaled the room’s. “I thought I’d find you here Sebastian; your accommodations in the basement were not to your satisfaction?”

Sebastian’s gaze narrowed on the woman, expression almost bored as he remained in his lax position, making no move to get up and with not a hint of shame. “Mm, Ciel has graciously offered me new accommodations that I find much more _appealing_ ,” he replied, voice a silky murmur as he spoke, a broad smirk spreading across his lips as he inclined his head at the woman a moment, gaze flickering from her to linger on his mate and reluctantly back again.

“I see,” Rachel replied coolly, turning to face her son with a manicured hand tapping on her hip. So the demon had taken to calling his master by his given name, that would explain the faded runes and reticulations adorning her son’s flesh; _they_ would need to know, _she_ would not be pleased. “Are you sure you're quite fine with this, Ciel? After what he did to you?”

Ciel gaped at her, pulling his bathrobe more securely over his chest as if it would somehow better protect him from her scrutiny; how had she known what had transpired between them those nights ago? Lizzie had perhaps told her? No, Lizzie would never betray his confidences. He took a hesitant step towards her, touching her arm, but refusing to answer her question, if not only to forget the ordeal. “Mom, are you okay? You don’t seem yourself, why don’t we go downstairs, I’ll make you a cup of tea…”  
“Why wouldn’t I be okay dear?” Rachel simpered, pulling away and rejecting her son’s anxious touch, “I just buried my husband, _your father_ , last night and I woke up listening to my only son fucking a demon. I’m the _epitome_ of okay.” A smile settled on her face, not at all kind, taking sadistic pleasure at the look of chagrin that crossed Ciel’s face. What a sweet child, he really did hold his mother’s opinion of him in high esteem. 

A rolling feeling settled in the pit of Ciel’s stomach and his mouth when dry. He was speechless; of course his father’s death had impacted her and he should have known she’d blame him for this. She had every right to, it was his fault after all. He shuffled to the edge of the bed and sat near Sebastian’s outstretched legs, trying to keep his face from screwing up as a heavy sigh turned into a shudder. He hunched over, still unable to look at her and stared at the familiar blue-sealed envelope, clutching it tightly between his hands as drops spattered and darkened the paper holding his next assignment. 

Rachel walked up to him, pinched and patted his cheek condescendingly before taking her leave, pausing only to look at the demon, “Oh, and Sebastian, see that my son does not come downstairs limping, he’s dishonored his surname and birthright enough for one day.” She left, slamming the door in her wake. 

Sebastian ignored the woman’s warning and her scathing remarks, glad for her departure when finally she took her leave. He sat up and immediately reached out to draw his mate against him, wrapping his arms around Ciel’s waist, nuzzling the side of his neck and pressing soft, comforting kisses there, not at all pleased with the scent of salt and distraught from the young man. His mother’s unexpectedly harsh words might not have affected the fallen, but they had surely hurt her son. He did as he had the night of Ciel’s nightmare and simply held him, beginning to hum softly under his breath, waiting until Ciel recovered and was ready to speak again. The new assignment, his mother, the responsibilities, the weight of his legacy and the rest of the damned world could wait, could be patient until his butterfly’s tears had dried and faded from his skin. And Sebastian would not let him go again until then.

Chapter 18 Blooper Reel

*Scene Eighteen “Restless” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Three*

 **Sebastian:** Do you ever dream about me sweetling?”

 **Ciel:** Fishing for compliments now, are we? If I share my dreams with you, do you promise to reenact one with me?”

 **Sebastian:** Those are fantasies, Ciel, not dreams…

 **Ciel _(throwing off the blankets and mounting Sebastian)_ :** Semantics. 

**Poe _(grumbling and hiding his head under his wing)_ :** Oh for fuck sakes… Not again. 

**Sebastian _(Sebastian throws a pillow at the bird comfortable on his perch, knocking him off and out cold)_ :** Now where were we…

 **Ciel _(grinding into Sebastian’s lap)_ :** You, a headmaster at my school…

 **Sebastian _(whose naked body is swiftly knitted over with an academic regalia, smirks under Ciel)_ :** Like this, my love?

 **Ciel:** You forgot the glasses, and the ruler to administer discipline, Headmaster…

 **Sebastian _(who complies, but rolls Ciel over onto his stomach and hitches his hips to gently rake the ruler over his rear)_ :** Did you do your homework, Phantomhive?

 

*Scene Eighteen “Restless” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Seven*

 **Sebastian:** Well, I am feeling a little peckish...

 **Ciel:** Do I look like a goddamned snack to you?

_(Poe has regained consciousness and is back up on his perch. He uses The Google to come up with some witty retorts for his Master so that he might be able to actually watch this time)_

**Sebastian _(reaching over to the nightstand to pick up his vibrating Motorola Razor, starts scrolling through Poe’s texts with a smirk on his face)_ :** Yes, I believe you are butterfly, if the culture in which you grew up is any indication as to how you may be my _snack_ , then I would like to “Eat Fresh” and “Taste the Rainbow”, since you are so “Finger-lickin’ Good”. After all, as your mate, am I not allowed to “Obey My Thirst”?

 **Ciel:** Fine, since you’re being romantic and all...

 

*Scene Eighteen “Restless” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Fifteen*

 **Rachel _(on the other side of her son’s bedroom door)_ :** I’m glad that at the very least my voice brings you back to reason. I have something for you and it seems rather urgent. Open the door.

 **Ciel _(Starts to get out of bed)_ :** Um, yeah… just let me put something on. 

**Sebastian _(Covers ciel’s mouth as he pulls him back onto the bed and whispers)_ :** Just wait, sweetling. _(touches his throat and counts down on his fingers, 5...4...3...2...1)_

**Lucifer _(Actually, Sebastian, using Lucifer’s voice)_ :** God damn it, they just got married, give them a chance… go possess someone else for a while, won’t you?

 **Rachel _(bowing behind the door)_ :** Yes your Highness...

 **Sebastian:** Now where were we...

 **Ciel _(sprawling onto the bed and pushing Sebastian’s head back down)_ :** Brilliant… would you mind keeping the voice though? 

**Lucifer:** Now we're even...

 **Sebastian:** Yeah... Yeah...

 

*Scene Eighteen “Restless” (Ciel’s Bedroom) Take Twenty-One*

 **Rachel _(who is annoyed with both Ciel and Sebastian and looking to start a fight after being informed that her son has offered the demon better accommodations- whatever that meant)_ :** Are you sure you're quite fine with this, Ciel? After what he did to you?

 **Poe _(interrupting- as per usual)_ :** Are you fucking serious? Have you seen the cage in the basement? It’s completely uninhabitable, Rachel. If this is the way my master is to be treated, we might need to use The Google to look up the Landlord & Tenants Act. 

**Rachel _(putting her hands up defensively)_ :** Oh that won’t be necessary… That being said, you’ll need to inform me of the new premises, if it’s on my property, I might need to make an adjustment to Sebastian’s rent...

 **Poe _(unblinking)_ :** Your son’s anus.

 **Rachel:** What? 

**Poe:** You heard me. 

**Rachel:** I don’t underst-

 **Poe _(covering Rachel’s mouth his his wing)_ :** I think you do...


	19. Dreamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Caffeine is a drug, respect it. 
> 
> Chapter Eighteen: Dreamer  
> [ Remember Us by Gabriel Royal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEjYmO5-dLk&feature=youtu.be)  
> Sebastian~ [ Hero by Enrique Iglesias](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koJlIGDImiU%22)  
> Ciel~ [ Falling Away With You by Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fU88nehcnBY%22)

“Mm… Sebastian…” Ciel bowed his head, letting it fall against his right forearm as it rested on the intricately carved headboard while his left arm steadied him in a tangle of blue satin sheets on the mattress. The bed creaked noisily in time with the gentle rolling thrusts that pressed him from behind, soft pants and moans escaping his lips as he alternated between wetting and biting them. The length of Sebastian’s tail coiled and tightened itself expertly around his dripping member as his lover's hands fondly gripped his hips and teasing taloned fingers grazed the crease between his torso and his thighs. An easy, comfortable pace had been set and all Ciel had to do to meet it was let his hips rock back of their own accord.

The demon hummed a low growling sound of pleasure as he guided Ciel’s hips back into the pressing of his own deliciously slow thrusts, reveling in the feel of his mate against his arousal and his tail shifted languidly around the boy’s eager erection. He nosed behind the young man’s ear, his breath stirring against the pinked shell as he whispered huskily, “So perfect you are sweetling, so lovely… You like this?”

Ciel moaned his delight at his mate’s honeyed voice and the way the warmth of his breath against his skin drew him closer to his climax, “I do… I - I love being close to you.” As if in answer, he was bought upright swiftly, felt his sweat-glistened back flush against his lover’s chest as strong arms embraced his torso, holding him like a cage. He rested his weight on the demon’s thighs, impaling himself fervently onto the driving heat of Sebastian’s ridged, pulsing arousal.

Taloned fingers dug harder into plump hips, kneading the flesh as the demon moved to meet the downward force of Ciel’s enthusiastic movements. His sharp teeth grazed along the rim of the boy’s flushed ear, worrying the lobe before trailing lower. Lips, teeth and tongue laving attention over the pale, flushed column of Ciel’s throat, lingering with almost threat over the pulse throbbing there. “Mine, all mine, only mine, precious… I’ll have you,” he murmured against the damp and purpling flesh, rocking up into the boy, the motions becoming more powerful with every harsh breath and cry that escaped his mate’s mouth. There was something different in the tone of his voice, something familiar, but misplaced and a thread of perfumy sweetness that did not belong was seeping into the spicy scent, mingling with it in an almost unpleasant way.

Ciel gasped, surprised by the aggressive turn their lovemaking had taken; but he trusted Sebastian, having never known his mate to be a selfish lover. He conformed his small frame to the older man’s, reaching a hand back and draping it around Sebastian’s neck as the other guided the demon’s hand to his throbbing length, pushing his hips up into his strangling, somewhat painful grip. “Se-Sebastian… too hah… too hard...” he cried out wincing, his eyes downcast and pinched behind their veil of dark lashes.

There was a soft chuckle, one that was too melodic to belong to Sebastian and the grip of the hands on Ciel became more bruising, uncomfortable in their firmness. Long, dark strands of spider silk fine hair slipped over Ciel’s shoulder and down his chest as the demon behind him tilted his head to better press his soft lips to the mortal’s ear. “But the cries you make are so delicious pretty little butterfly. I imagine you taste just as divine and I’m ever so keen to devour you,” Lucifer’s, or as Ciel knew him, Lucian's, familiar husky drawl washed over Ciel’s ear and goosebumps rose on his flesh, stiffening with an almost panic, “That’s right, be afraid pretty. Even if you call out for him, Asmodeus cannot protect you here.”

As soon as the chuckle sounded, the cloying smell of lilacs permeated the space further, smothering and suffocating in its intensity and Ciel stilled his movements, arm coming down from around the demon’s neck to push against his torso instead, to put some distance between the two of them. It did no good; and the more it did nothing, the more his breaths came quick and shallow despite his best efforts to conceal his panic from the man. He called out for Sebastian in his mind over and over again, until his mental voice was screaming, raging at his mate. Out of desperation, he even tried calling him, ordering, commanding him by his demonic name, but yielded the same results. 

He looked about for any way out of the situation and noticed abruptly that the setting had changed. They were no longer in his chambers, but on a lavish dais in front of an ornate, unoccupied throne. He’d even somehow been pushed forward, his chest leveled with a cold, smooth surface as his backside stayed presented and filled; and yet he didn’t remember changing positions or changing rooms... a dream? No. A nightmare.

Lucien hadn’t relented his pressure or his obduracy and Ciel had to make a concerted effort to bury the discomfort he felt, unwilling to let his cries further please the intruder. “Lucien, h-how is it that you’re in my subconscious?” he asked through gritted teeth, recognizing the nauseating scent, the teasing arrogant tone and the shock of long midnight hair, “What gives you the right…”

“Oh you naive little thing, my dear brother didn’t warn you? How _shocking_... Guess. Surely, you’ll come up with something, I’m certain I'll have no trouble occupying myself while your frantic little mind pieces it all together,” Lucifer said teasingly, holding Ciel’s hips in a biting hold and moving inside him with torturously slow gyrations of his own hips, his thickness swollen and uncomfortably barbed as it pressed against the sensitive inner walls of Ciel’s body. He licked a path up Ciel’s spine with a long forked tongue that was roughly bristled and left the young man’s skin raw and reddened in its wake, his long hair curtained around himself and over the boy’s sides as he bent over him. “It’s really too bad I can’t taste how sweet your sweat must taste in this place, but at least I can dream... for now,” he breathed over the damp and irritated flesh, every word from his lips, sharp with arrogance and filled with deviant interest, unconcerned and reveling in the discord his presence was breeding in the young man prostrated and pillaged beneath him.

_Brother?_ Ciel repeated the word to himself continuously, harshly until he could no longer make sense of it. The discomfort made the syllables bleed one into the another, when finally he coupled _brother_ with Lucien, and Lucien became Lucifer. Ciel tried coming up on his arms, but was pushed down with little effort, the demon’s razored fingers splaying out and apart between his shoulder blades, tearing the skin as they moved down along his spine; he tried to turn his head to address the Fallen, only to pull an exasperated, detached sound from Lucifer and have his face pressed firmly, painfully into the dais. He felt the sweat accumulate on his hairline and sting his eyes as it made its way to his upper lip. “Ngh… Ah…” He kept mentally pleading for his beloved whose presence he scarcely felt despite knowing that Sebastian was next to him in his bed, and tears of frustration replaced the sweat that ran down his face. He clenched his jaw and his arms stretched before him, grasping the front legs of the throne; his hands shook as much as his voice, as the blue of his veins prominently stood out against the whiteness of his knuckles. “Warn me of what Lucifer?”

Lucifer idly traced over the welts his long nails had left on the young man’s back proudly, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. “Why that I’d be coming for you of course,” he replied lazily, chuckling when Ciel tensed and shuddered beneath him, “Oh come now, don’t act so surprised, you must have suspected, after all you are such a rare species of butterfly. But don’t worry pet, I’m not coming… yet. I’ve other plans to see through before then,” he finished, his fingers sliding up the back of Ciel’s neck and into his hair. They abruptly curled into the fine, sweat-moistened locks in a painfully tight grip, tugging Ciel’s head back at an uncomfortable angle while he leaned over his back. He pressed his mouth to the fluttering pulse beating visibly beneath the flesh of the boy’s throat, a mockery of a sweet kiss from his lips as he hummed his appreciation. “I have something for you pet, something you are _desperately_ missing… If you should like to have it, meet with me again, like you promised at that dreadfully dull party you threw for your father,” he murmured in an alluring and demanding tone, fully expecting the mortal’s acquiescence. 

Ciel bit his tongue in an attempt to silence his cries and continued to struggle to free himself. No amount of head thrashing loosened the demon’s hold, instead, it encouraged Lucifer’s fingers to knot themselves further, to bury himself deeper, causing the young man’s body to arch and bow at an almost impossible degree. _This is a dream, so it doesn’t hurt… it doesn’t hurt… it doesn’t hurt…_ But it did. It was excruciating. The taste of acrid blood flowed freely and he spat a mouthful of it onto his hands, “I’ll s-see if I can… ngh… fit you in…” he growled, fanning sanguined fingers over his contracted eye and incomprehensibly muttering the aramaic for _dream_ and _wake_. Punishing nails dug into his scalp until they were nails no longer, but talons. Poe frantically beat his wings atop Ciel’s head gripping and pulling the sweat-drenched strands of navy, making desperate little sounds at the back of his throat, finally rousing the young man from his nightmare.

When Poe sensed the shift in Ciel’s breath and the returning of his consciousness, a soft cooing chuff of relief sounded from him. “Finally, _mistress_ wakes,” came the quiet, unfamiliar murmur from the raven as he nudged at Ciel’s head affectionately. There was another rustle of feathers as the other occupant in the bed shifted as well, obviously awakened by the previously frantic motions of the bird.

Sebastian propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering in the garnet depths of his eyes as he leaned over his mate. “What’s the matter sweetling? Another unpleasant dreamscape?” he asked as his wings shifted, stretching out overhead as he reached with his unoccupied hand to cup Ciel’s flushed cheek, thumb brushing lightly beneath his violet tinted, contract-stained eye adoringly. 

Ciel tore out of Sebastian’s hold and wretched over the side of the bed. The cold air hit his back, making the fresh welts and lacerations burn and throb in tandem with his ragged breaths. He was momentarily thankful that his back seemed to be the only pain that had passed from his dream and into reality. “Don't touch me!” he snarled at the demon, glaring at him from beneath his dishevelled fringe.

Sebastian’s hand hung in the space between them, the smell of sick rising in the air sourly as Ciel wretched, but the demon hardly noticed, his gaze narrowed and sharp with anguished anger upon witnessing the vicious marks his mate’s back bore, knowing that he had not been the one to leave them. Had he been, he would have healed them and not left them to fester and redden with raw irritation. That meant that his mate had been attacked at some point during their rest and certainly by nothing human. Protectiveness rose in him and he desperately wished to reach out, to fade the destruction from his lover’s skin, but he daren’t without Ciel’s permission, could not against his express order to remain untouched. “I won’t sweetling, but won’t you explain? Tell me what you’ve seen in your nightmares butterfly to leave you this way?” he requested quietly, already having a suspicion, but he did not voice it as he dropped his hand to his own lap and his gaze flickered to his familiar still perched on Ciel’s pillow expectantly.

Poe cocked his head to the side, matching scarlet meeting with his master’s briefly before he bobbed his head in understanding. He hopped over the wrinkled and twisted bedding, up onto Ciel’s lap, soft coos and purrs of concern and comfort leaving his feathered chest as he nudged at Ciel’s hand coaxingly.

Ciel sat back up, bringing his knees to his chest and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, careful to keep a safe distance from Sebastian. He twisted and shifted painfully, trying to find a comfortable posture and Poe’s insistence of being pet served as a fair distraction from the malaise but not from his mate’s worried scrutiny. 

Ciel glowered at him, his own hurt matching Sebastian’s overt concern, “Oh, what was it _he_ said? Wait… I can’t recall the words exactly since I was being _forcibly and repeatedly violated_ , but it was something along the lines of ‘guess… surely your frantic little mind can piece it all together…’ Neglect to tell me something important, love?”

Sebastian’s eyes widened minutely and his lips parted. He hadn’t meant to keep it from Ciel, had foolishly thought Lucifer would not come to taunt him again so soon. He should have known better, but he’d been so weak, so blinded when his butterfly had come to him safe and sound and making such sweet confessions. “I… I hadn’t meant to… Ciel, forgive me, I did not think Lucifer would attack you this way. It was my mistake. It won’t happen again. I can barre him from your dreams as surely as I’ve barred any others from possessing your body,” he paused in his genuinely distraught apology, wet his lips and swallowed as he watched his mate from beneath his lashes, ashamed by his own failure to foresee what should have been so obvious or perhaps he’d seen only what he’d wanted to see, to hope when he knew better. It was too late; what was done was done and he would be more vigilant in future. Lucifer had made his intentions clear and Sebastian would not allow him to harm his precious mate in such a way again. “Please sweetling, let me make it right.”

He did not have to look at Sebastian’s face to know that his countenance would be one of contrition and shame; it dripped with every word he uttered, with every unnecessary breath that shook as it left his mouth, with the nearly inconspicuous fluttering of his fingers that desired to reach out and soothe his master. Sebastian should have probably anticipated such an attack from such a formidable foe; but he was right, he’d been in a weakened state, and Ciel himself was responsible for that. He could not fault his mate when the demon had never sought to reproach or degrade him for his part in it. 

He sighed, affectionately fondling the feathers under the raven’s beak, grateful that the familiar had, for a second time, rescued him from the one known as _Morning Star_. “Fine,” he answered solemnly, trying to come up with a suitable reward for his mate’s familiar, “But let Poe tend to my wounds.”

“Very well, but he cannot cast the runes in your mind to keep my brother out. When you wish it, I will do so for you my love. Shall I attend to your breakfast then before we leave for our destination?” Sebastian replied soberly, hurt for the young man’s dismissal, but hiding it well as he moved to stand from the bed, his inhuman features fading again as they had the morning before, trying not to let his jealousy over the affection his familiar was receiving in his stead consume him. It was most pleasing that Ciel had become attached to the bird that was an extension of Sebastian, a being that was inherently tethered to him as he was tethered to his mate and he had no real need to envy the bird. Even so, he could not deny the raw feeling that was left in him that Ciel would prefer he be healed by the raven and take comfort in him in place of his lover. He closed his eyes and exhaled a silent breath before he opened them again, looking over one inked shoulder to see his familiar nuzzling and nipping at his mate’s fingertips before he looked away again to hide the pained expression he was sure marred his features.

Ciel reached out a hand, leaning forward to grasp Sebastian’s before he could leave; the demon might be a master at composing his features, but since their reunion and their mutual destruction of the cage, the young man had begun inexplicably sensing the intangible and at that very moment, rejection and exclusion clung to his mate. “I can grab something on the road, Sebastian,” he said bringing the contracted hand to his face and holding it to his cheek, “just stay with me for now?”

Sebastian half-turned, inclining his head as he made eye contact with his mate, brushing his thumb over his soft cheek and along his temple. “Always,” he replied as he turned fully and slipped back onto the mattress with his mate, keeping watch and playing with the still somewhat damp locks of Ciel’s hair as he laid on his belly while Poe tenderly cleaned and healed the welts and angry scratches that had been left all along the young man’s spine.

***

Decidedly, too few hours later found the couple embarking on a two day road trip to New Orleans where the Vatican’s orders had dictated they should be attending a certain gathering where otherworldly goods would be traded and auctioned, though there was no specific directions on what they were to do there. Ciel had a particularly amusing time teaching Sebastian how to drive, which the demon picked up quite swiftly as it seemed he was wont to do with just about everything before they finally were on their way.

Most of the first day’s travel was spent in quiet, Ciel lost in his thoughts, petting Poe, whom was asleep in the young man’s lap, absently and looking blankly out the window. He only gave directions when Sebastian prompted him, having thrown the infernal GPS out the window early on. The demon himself was otherwise as silent as his lover, contemplating and speculating what had taken place exactly in the young man’s morning nightmare and plotting his vengeance on his elder brother while music filtered through the vehicle from the radio on low. The dark-haired devil desperately wanted to question his mate, but did not pry, trusting, albeit reluctantly that Ciel would come to explain the details to him at some later time when he was ready. 

They made several stops along the way for cheap food and snacks and some highly caffeinated beverages as well as little pink pills that boasted they were the saviour of students everywhere, housing more caffeine in a single one of them than in ten cups of coffee. Ciel, Sebastian noted devoured them as if they were candy, washing them down with equally caffeinated energy drinks and overly sugary carbonated beverages and he suspected that his lover was avoiding closing his eyes again as much as possible. Sebastian could hear the rapid pace of his heart, could practically feel it though they were not touching. It was evening by the time he suggested and subsequently insisted they stop for the night. He’d had enough of the silence between them and it was high time his lover talked. He found he missed the intimacy and the easy words between them and would not be swayed no matter the protests from his obviously still distressed mate.

“Very well Sebastian, if you’re _tired_ , we can rest. There’s a place not far from here,” Ciel said consulting his phone. Of course he knew his mate wasn’t tired and likely wanted to talk about what had transpired in his nightmare; he himself didn’t know what more there was to discuss. He kept his eyes on the yellow dashed line that divided the lanes, trying not to blink as they drove by three hotels. Each time they did, he felt garnet eyes look him over, heard the exasperation when his pet sighed his displeasure of prolonging their journey. “Relax, we’re almost there...” he said minimizing the electronic map he'd been reading to get the exact distance, “Just seven more miles…” The frustrated devil finally hummed his approval when Ciel directed him to turn onto a rough dirt path whose roadside trees loomed so thickly overhead that no moonbeam or starlight penetrated their depths.

It took very little time for them to reach an opening and Sebastian put the car in park once they had. Ciel got out before he could protest, stretching his back and cracking his neck. A fresh, cool breeze rose the goosebumps on his flesh, assisting the caffeine in keeping him awake; there was no way he’d have led them anywhere near a bed, it would be too tempting to sleep, this was a far better option. He smiled at Sebastian once he’d finally come out of the car, knew he could hear the rushing water swirling quickly through stone luges as surely as he could with his weaker mortal ears, that he could see the soft sandstone into which the [ Devil’s Bathtub](http://www.dailyfailcentral.com/354504) had been carved by the elements to hold a beautiful pool of blue-green water. “Do these accommodations please you, love?"

Sebastian’s eyes lit up in the dim light as he scanned the area. An interesting choice of accommodations to be sure. He knew this was likely a way for Ciel to further avoid sleep and the possibility of dreaming again. But Ciel was human and unlike devils, sleep was essential to his health, so regardless of where the boy had taken them for the night, Sebastian was going to make certain he slept, one way or another. “It’s lovely,” he murmured, turning his knowing gaze towards his mate and stepping towards him, reaching out to brush his fingertips along the side of Ciel’s face tenderly, “But you did not choose it for me, now did you sweetling? Be honest.”

“Only in part. I know you have a weakness for beautiful things,” he smiled cheekily, taking the demon’s hand in his own and leading him towards the quiet pool. “I saw the pictures when I was looking for a stop along the way, and something about the area seemed… familiar.” Perhaps it wasn’t the location at all; it might have more to do with the company, or the serenity. Ciel knew what information Sebastian was looking for, and he wasn’t keen to bring up his anxieties verbally when they were doing a fine job of manifesting themselves in the minute tremors of his hands, the way he couldn’t keep still and his too wide eyes that took in the surroundings.

Sebastian hummed his acknowledgement of his mate’s response, knowing only too well that Ciel was not speaking all his truths. He could feel the trembling of the young man’s hand in his own as Ciel led him towards the water. When the boy stopped, Sebastian drew him back against himself, wrapping his arms around his waist, cradling him against his chest, warming him and leaning in. He pressed his mouth beneath Ciel’s ear, “You’re shaking butterfly,” he observed quietly and though Ciel’s skin was chilled, he did not think the anxious tremors and incessant fidgeting was due to the briskness of the autumn night. Even knowing his mate may become defensive, may order him away or condemn his words, he proceeded, voice soft with genuine concern and protectiveness, “You aren’t wrong to be afraid Ciel. Lucifer is not an enemy to take lightly, but I will do everything I can to keep you from him. I was careless before, but I will not be so again. I can help you forget what trespasses he cast against you. You cannot live without sleep precious. Put your faith in me. Let me protect you sweetling.”

Ciel’s eyebrows drew together almost defiantly as he turned his face to Sebastian, tilting his head to better look at him. Behind his mate, the moon was full and blue, casting a darkened navy shadow in the atmosphere, making it seem less tenebrous than usual this time of year. It allowed him to see his lover’s expression with more clarity, and to read the concern plainly written in his features. “And why would I want to forget what he did? Remembering will keep me vigilant. But it’s not just Lucifer, Sebastian, it’s my mother… she’s not _right_ …” he hesitated, unsure if such trivialities would bore the aged demon, but then deciding that thus far, honesty had paid off in their relationship. “I went to see her this morning, before we left, to apologize for my behaviour yesterday and to inform her that I’d be gone for work this week, but the butler told me she’d refused her breakfast. I went to her room to check on her, but her door was locked and when I knocked, she bid whoever was there to leave.” Ciel’s face flushed, not with the indignation he’d first felt, but with embarrassment for what came next, “She wasn’t alone. In fact, I made out at least three other voices.” He looked away from Sebastian, feeling that’d he’d be somewhat of a hypocrite for continuing, and knowing his mate would have no difficulty pointing it out either, “Um, they weren’t exactly talking… I know… I know she’s a grown woman… but it’s not like her to...” 

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, hands kneading at Ciel’s sides and back soothingly. So strange mortals’ thinking was. His mate was more concerned about his mother’s odd behaviour than he was about the fact that a prince of hell was stalking him like prey because he had developed some interest in the boy that had become Sebastian’s mate. “Humans grieve in many ways my love; I’ve seen it more times than I can count. Perhaps that’s all it is. Give her time. I can’t imagine losing your beloved mate is a simple affair. I imagine losing you would drive me to madness; I can only assume that your mother is not in her right mind when the loss is still so fresh,” he replied, trying to be understanding and assuring, though he could not be certain if his words were true or false; he was only speculating and he did not want to imagine too deeply how he himself would react should he lose Ciel the way his mother had lost his father.

Despite his minimal experience with grief, this is what Ciel had told himself as well if not only to dispel his own guilt. He closed whatever distance was still left between he and Sebastian as a gust of November air ruffled his hair and made him shiver. His own thin long sleeved shirt provided little protection against the brisk weather, and he started re-thinking his idea of foregoing the creature comforts he was used to. The chill caught in his voice and he tried to keep his teeth from chattering as he changed the subject, unwilling to keep discussing anything related to his fear or his regret. “M-madness, eh?” he inquired, untucking Sebastian’s collared shirt from his slacks and warming his hands against the warm flesh of his abdomen. “Have you ever wondered why, though? Hasn’t all of this felt a little, I don’t know, strange to you? That we would have…” he looked away, barely having admitted it to himself, and it embarrassed him somewhat to say it out loud, “ _fallen_ so swiftly?”

Sebastian’s skin warmed against Ciel, his body temperature rising in response to the chill that had seeped into his lover’s. His eyes glowed and flickered like flames and abruptly there were such flames about them. A circle of ethereal fire encircled them some feet around where they stood, casting warmth into the space, but burning nothing as it danced impishly.

“Hm, is it so strange? I hadn’t considered it sweetling. I can feel you, have felt you since you first amended the contract. Since then, it has only become stronger. There was always something about you Ciel, a pull that drew me in, built a fondness in me, a possessiveness from the time of your conception that has only been cultivated since then. I know a great many things precious, but I could not hope to explain the machinations of love. Though I know it for what it is as surely as I feel it for you, I have no recollection of having been trapped by it before there was you so I have no reference for comparison. Humans talk of love at first sight, of fast, intense romance that fizzles out as quickly as it manifests, but this between us is not so fickle as that. Swift as it was, it is no fleeting fanciful dalliance, but a bond that cannot be broken without what would most certainly be our mutual destruction. I told you once before that love is perceived differently between us and so it is. You question it because you only know love by the definition of humanity, but what we share now…” He paused, brushing his fingers over Ciel’s cheek reverently and down to cup his jaw, drawing his chin up to lock their gazes as he leaned in to brush their lips as he finished, “This is the romance of immortals and it is meant to be consuming and eternal. I did not lie when I said all others before you paled in comparison and there will be no others after.” 

Though cast by the demon, the flames seemed to take on an aspect that combined both their essences; the demon’s passion and fervor and the mismatched colours of Ciel’s eyes that danced like aurora borealis brought down to earth. Together they warmed and calmed him, a stark contrast to what his mate’s words did to his spirit. His breath hitched as the demon exploited his weakness for all things dark and romantic. He’d courted them as far back as his memory allowed him to recall, but never seriously, thinking that such love didn’t actually exist. Ciel doubted the demon even realized that through his honesty, he was being romantic, which in turn was making the mortal even more sentimental. “You once said your kind does not trust love much, and neither did I. Love is not something I ever wanted, not that kind; my life was marked the very moment I was born into the Phantomhive dynasty and I would not want anyone dragged into it with me. But you can have what little’s left of it...” he said unbuttoning the silk vest Sebastian wore over his collared shirt, “And once it’s done, let my soul feed you, as mine will feed on your love; and as long as you live, so will I, for now I know no other way than to love you.”

Sebastian’s tongue wet his lips as he watched his mate through his heavy lashes while Ciel spoke and began unbuttoning his vest. He let it slip off his shoulders to the ground beneath, uncaring of where it fell before reaching for his mate to finger at his shirt as well. He cocked his head, still watching the young man, silent for a long moment before he finally replied to the words. They were the ones he’d hoped to hear when he’d first acknowledged the amendment of their contract, and yet, hearing them now was both sorrowful and elating. Ciel would offer his most precious gift, his soul for his lover’s consumption which was morbidly romantic, but it was also a profoundly melancholy admission, a realization that Ciel still did not fully understand what the demon had meant. “Though it’s a lovely gesture sweetling, I’d rather your soul remain as it is… You speak of the end, but there will be no end. You will outlive all Phantomhives that came before you and know the changes of the centuries as I have come to. I will give you eternity, a life span to match my own. To devour your soul and carry it with me always would indeed be poetic and the sentiment is not lost on me, but I would miss your voice and your lips, your eyes and all the rest of you. I could hold your soul in my hand, but I’d rather have the whole of you in my arms instead,” he explained softly, voice a low murmur over the muted crackling of the flames around them and the whisper of the wind in the colourful leaves stubbornly clinging to the limbs of the trees above, “An existence without would be no existence at all.”

The tips of Ciel’s fingers gently grazed along Sebastian’s defined torso as he lay his head against his chest, seeking the calming false heartbeat of his mate. His own heart was racing at what the demon had implied and his pulse throbbed in areas he didn't realize he had a pulse. His breath hitched on his every inhalation, rendering his mouth too dry to even respond. It was not until he’d swallowed a dozen times and cleared his throat almost as often that he was able to whisper his concerns to his very patient lover, “But how is that possible? My kind hasn't lived that long since they've been banned from Eden; and if, by some miracle, you found a way around my mortality, and I were to keep aging without dying, would you still desire me? Could you?” 

As though sensing his mounting distress, the raven familiar left his former position to circle overhead, making low reassuring gurgling croaks, its wings gliding along the surface of the soothing indigo flames. Ciel’s small fists came to the front of Sebastian’s shirt, bunching the soft material before him, “And if I am not to remain mortal, would you make a demon of me? How could you want that for someone you profess to love? What would happen to my soul, then?” His tone was imploring, begging and desperately hoping his lover had thought this through, had another alternative; if not, it was more important than ever for him to acquire the necessary ingredients for Undertaker. “Sebastian, the more your being is rewritten through sacrificing your own well-being and lust, and even going as far as to deny yourself my soul, the more you regain your angelic divinity. _You_ fell from Heaven, so you get to retain a certain amount of beauty and a chance at redemption; if I were to become one of your kind, it would never be so for me since the only falling I’ve ever done was for you.” 

Sebastian smiled gently at Ciel and placed his hands over the young man’s fisted ones, warming the cooler digits with his own. “I would never not desire you butterfly; it’s an impossibility at this point when I’ve become so bound to you. As for what you’d become… You’d be unchanging from what you are. I would share my immortality with you. It’s nothing so terrible as becoming a lesser demon. As you said, I am one of the fallen and as such I have the means to keep you. It’s a matter of blood my love. Our contract has already been amended a number of times. Your blood is what ties me to you and so if I should amend it in mine, you would remain human, but immortal, unaging and immune to illnesses that might take you from me. You could still be killed, but not by mortal means. Until such a time as I cease to exist, you would be by my side,” he explained, tenderly unclasping Ciel’s grip from his clothing and pressing his hands to his lips, “But for such a bond to be successful, you must have no doubt in your soul; you must resign yourself to outliving all those you hold dear, to an existence in which you are forever bound to me. It’s not unlike the connection I share with my familiar. You needn’t decide now or even for some years. As it is now, we are as bound as we can be while you remain mortal and that is not likely to change unless you order it or a force more powerful than either of us intervenes.” He pressed tender kisses to Ciel’s palms and released his hold on his true form, letting the young man’s hands free as he enfolded him in his arms and his dark wings curved in around them. He did not say that there were risks because there was no need to frighten his mate when he was already so vulnerable; if such a day came that Ciel would be willing, he would tell him then. No doubt, the idea of eternity was overwhelming and near unfathomable for a mortal so young as his mate still was. There was time for Ciel to understand.

Sebastian made it sound too easy; so many things could go wrong. True, what he felt for Lizzie, Soma and his mother did not compare to the depth of his love for the demon, but it didn’t make the former insignificant. And what if Sebastian got sick of him? He already seemed exasperated by some of the things the young man did; tonight for instance - and his unwillingness to sleep. “Forever, or eternity is a long time...” he hesitated, tasting the words as they came out; they were stilted and somewhat awkward, a result of his first time feeling inadequate in all his eighteen years, “What if I’m not enough?”

“Impossible. You’ll come to understand sweetling. There is only you. Infuriating as you can be, you are equally as lovely and I’d have you no other way. I would not seek to keep and covet you if I had any suspicion that my desire for you would fade or that I would someday grow tired of you. You feel like home Ciel and to one such as I that has been homeless and homesick for more years than you can fathom, it is not something so fickle that I should someday come to find it inadequate. Mortal, human, fallible as you may be, there is heaven inside you for me,” Sebastian replied immediately, trying to convey in terms that his lover could comprehend the devotion, the loyalty, that had settled and spread in him for this one perfectly imperfect creature. He had no doubt that he would be incapable of ever loving another, knew it deep within his being. He’d always been wanting, searching, pining and hadn’t known what for until there was Ciel; there could be no other. 

He cradled the young man in his arms and ever so reverently laid him back upon the earth he’d warmed for him, cushioning him with the thick plumes of his inky wings, looking at him as if he could see inside the depths of him and so he could. And it was beautiful. No other place but Eden itself could compare. How could the boy believe he would ever be inadequate?

Ciel swallowed the lump in his throat. He had no words. None, in that moment that could convey his trust, his belief and utter confidence in Sebastian. A small smile found its way on his lips as they brushed against the smooth, scaled throat; to have faith in a demon was poetically ironic but in his eyes, their bond had become an indisputable truth. He planted tender, chaste kisses along the column of his mate’s neck until he reached his ear, “And you’ll protect me, my dark angel? From the nightmares, from your family?”

“I’d protect you from all the demons in hell and the angels upon high, Death, and God himself, my love,” came Sebastian’s breathy response as he craned his neck to allow his mate better access to his throat, his wings shifting restlessly around and beneath Ciel. His tail weaved and slithered its way cleverly beneath his mate’s clothing, the sharp tip shearing through seams like a breath through smoke, and bearing his lover’s perfect, milky skin to his adoring and increasingly hungry gaze. His hands slipped beneath the fabric, palming up Ciel’s sides unhurriedly, caressing and kneading the supple flesh and bone. He turned his head to meet Ciel’s lips with his own, “You are everything to me Ciel,” he whispered huskily against them before he was drowning in his mate’s kiss.

Ciel dragged in a breathe so deep he shuddered as his mouth found Sebastian’s, parted his lips and welcomed the demon’s forked tongue with his own smaller one, pulling it in deeper as he gently sucked the tip. He rounded a hand around his mate’s waist, drawing him in closer, dissatisfied with only feeling the warmth that radiated from the demon’s body; what he wanted was the burning of his flesh instead.

Sebastian hummed his appreciative approval into the kiss, teeth nipping at Ciel's lips as the boy sucked on his tongue. His hand roamed, peeling away to ruined fabric as they caressed over supple skin. The kiss continued for several drawn moments until his mate's breath shallowed and became laboured. Sebastian pulled away just enough to trail his mouth from Ciel's lips, along his jaw and down his throat, lingering there and laving the scarred marking he'd previously left with attention, proud, and pleased by its presence on his lover's skin. As he did, he rolled his hips against Ciel's in slow, rocking motions, his tail wrapping around one of the young man's thighs firmly, the tip softening from its normal sharpness to tease at the delicate space between Ciel's legs, teasing cleverly and lubricating between the press of his plump asscheeks.

Ciel arched his back pressing himself flush against his lover, submitting fully, exposing his neck and begged unashamedly for Sebastian to demonstrate his love and need. “Please. All that you’ve said this evening,” he said through gasping breaths, “All the poetic language, the devotion, the intensity; I want to _feel_ those words rather than just hear them.” Ciel ached for the unique pleasure-pains that only their intimacy held, as though they were as natural as day turning into night; the sharp hipbones of his lover’s demonic form digging into his and razored teeth that grazed, nipped and pierced his soft milky flesh, coaxing from his body that which sustained and provoked the demon.

“Patience sweetling… You shall have all you desire in time,” the demon murmured as his tongue flickered in the hollow where Ciel’s shoulder met his neck. He nipped and sucked there, leaving darkened marks as he pressed his mouth along the soft curve of shoulder and back down to his collar, further still to his chest, lingering on a peaked and rosy nipple. His hands worked at Ciel’s sides and down to his hips, tilting them up to meet his slow, teasing thrusts while his tail shifted, became blunted at the tip and prodded insistently at the young man’s entrance, lubricating and coaxing it open, pressing inside and expanding to stretch his mate for something much larger while taunting him with fleeting strokes of pleasure against the smooth inner surfaces. “So lovely you are little butterfly, so eager,” he breathed, one hand snaking between the press of their hips to caress over Ciel’s wanton stiffness, growling low in his throat at the feel of the pulse that beat there in time with the one in his throat.

Ciel’s right foot traced the back of the inhuman calf and up to the thigh where his toes curled, scratching the scaled flesh then hooked around and pulled in his lover. As the tail sunk into his tightness, stretching and teasing, his hands sought the demon’s smooth, elongated horns, viciously jerking them towards himself when his pleasure peaked in waves and his mate voiced his own arousal.

“Look at me,” Ciel implored panting, forcing the demon’s face up to meet his own, pupils blown in his mismatched eyes as the tail sunk itself more deeply into his heat and grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves there. He cried out, tossing his head back, exposing his throat, which strained his voice, “Look at what you do to me, Sebastian,” he breathed roughly, chest heaving as a smile broke the ecstatic expression on his face, “Only you get to see this side of me, shameless and begging to be filled, uncaring that I've disgraced my lineage; do you like this?”

Sebastian growled, his eyes lit and flickering with the reflection of flames as they crawled over Ciel’s face, obeying the command without delay or protest. “Of course sweetling, I love all aspects of you. I don’t care to revel in the disgrace to your name. It’s as meaningless to me as the one I bore before your forebears stole it from me and gave me another in its place. I only revel in the knowledge that you are mine and I am yours. Call me selfish, but the world could burn around us for all I care, as long as I can remain by your side butterfly,” he answered as his hands wrapped around Ciel’s thighs and hitched them up, his tail slipping out only to be replaced by the blunted head of his ridged shaft and he sank inside at a torturous pace, savouring the feel of his mate’s body greedily coaxing him in. 

Ciel’s mouth found Sebastian’s again, desperate to muffle his own groans as the much larger appendage stroked him from within, pulsing and swelling, pulling in each languid, torturous thrust deeper than the last. His hands kneaded Sebastian’s shoulders, nails biting into the onyx scale that shimmered in the moonlight, casting resplendent prisms, as the pleasured sounds they made disturbed the stillness of midnight in the forest.

More heady rumbling purrs, hums and growls sounded in the demon’s chest accompanied by the steady percussive beat of his heart, swallowing Ciel’s breath and lapping at his mouth as they devoured each other’s lips. His hands kneaded the young man’s thighs and hips, drawing him in to each powerful rolling thrust of his own. His tail curled beneath the arch of Ciel’s back, curving around his side and supporting him as Sebastian rather suddenly rolled the both of them over, reveling in the hitch of his mate’s breath and aching moan that shuddered against his lips as the new position drove him deeper into slick and desperate clenching heat.

Ciel indulged in the way their bodies fit together, taking a moment to adjust, then began to gyrate his hips provocatively, lean muscles contracting along his abdomen as he moved. He guided his mate’s taloned hands to his waist as his own wound into the long wispy strands of navy that had begun to dampen at the root and seep into his hairline. Lower lip crushed between his teeth, he held his breath as the demon began to thrust with more force, causing Ciel to steady himself by slinking his body against his lover’s, lapping at his own sweat as it dripped onto the his mate’s body, the essence of it much sweeter and heady as it combined with the spicy oils that were responsible for Sebastian’s naturally enticing scent. “Ah.. Seb-Sebastian…” Ciel breathed licking his lips and resting his head in the hollow of the demon’s neck as euphoria and exhaustion battled for dominance.

The demon’s thrusts remained slow though they gained depth and power, sliding out and in again in rocking waves that sent electric, searing bolts of pleasure through both his mate and himself. His hands slid to the small of Ciel’s back as the boy sprawled over him, his head tucked into the crook of his neck, Ciel’s fatigue obvious in the lax and languid movement of his body as Sebastian moved him as he moved inside him. The fingers of his uncontracted hand spread over the damp dip of his mate’s back while his other drew away a moment. Using his thumbnail, he nicked the fingertip of his index finger. As his thick burgundy blood beaded there, he tenderly began to trace vague characters and symbols along Ciel’s spine, starting at the base and working his way up to the nape of his neck and behind each of his ears, all the while maintaining the steady building of their mutual pleasure in his adoring thrusts. The bloodied runes glowed briefly before they sunk beneath Ciel’s skin, weaving yet another protective barrier over his mate’s body, one that would keep others out while the ones that had transferred previously would allow only Sebastian in.

“Mmm… keep your hands on me, Sebastian…” Ciel breathed heavily into his ear, pressing a series of kisses there, then nipping and sucking the lobe. He wrapped his arms around the demon’s neck, holding him tightly as his mate rocked in and out of him. His thighs squeezed against his mate’s hips, quivering and resisting the urge to go boneless as his knees scraped the sandy terrain below. He winced and ground his teeth trying to not let it distract from the bliss of their intimacy.

Because he was watching his mate so avidly, the wince did not go unnoticed and Sebastian was quick to remedy the problem. It was clear from the redness of the young man’s knees where the discomfort had stemmed and the demon curved his massive wings back in around them before he rolled his mate back over onto his back, one hand still supporting his lower back and arching him into the almost lazy motions of his hips. The heat between them was coming to a peak. He could feel the aching pulse and slick slide of Ciel’s desperate cock trapped against his belly and snaked his hand between them to spread against the young man’s sternum, effectively pinning him between the two limbs. His tail slithered in the in between and wrapped itself around Ciel’s begging erection, the movement of his thrusting working it in and out of the ringed tunnel in tandem to every brush of his lover’s prostate. 

His own cock inflated eagerly, the ribbing along its surface further stimulating the tender-sensitive inner walls of Ciel’s body as his own end threatened to overtake him with every instinctive clenching convulsion of the channel he sheathed himself in. He pressed in to take Ciel’s mouth again as his hips snapped back and forward at a now accelerated pace, though it was nothing short of blissfully slow in comparison to their previous feverish couplings, an achingly torturous parallel of their mutual passion. It was a slow lovemaking that was an embodiment of how the demon felt his mate in his core, how cherished Ciel was to the demon in spite of his nature and proclivity to the swift pleasures of lust and flesh. They were more than sinew and bone, skin and scale and all parts physical. In place of form, profound entwining of essences that blurred their existence into one, divine and unholy undefined and perfectly balanced, made whole and all encompassing as their beings blended and the world beyond their flames faded to nothing.

For a moment, Ciel thought the fire that surrounded them was moving in, its warmth turning to a blaze as it licked at his flesh and devoured him. But it was not. It was the demon’s all-consuming love, one that burned away the debris of lesser loves, freeing the mortal’s soul to taste the madness that had been his immortal’s loneliness, to share in the sensation that was hungry and sated at once, possessive yet purely untainted, stripped and uncomplicated. Its intensity brought on an absolution in the form of delirious tears; he’d not known what love was until he knew what it was not. But now that he did, he wanted it, craved it.

His fingers brushed the temples of his mate’s head where his horns protruded from the flesh before tangling themselves in the silky locks that fell to the demon’s shoulders as he neared his orgasm. His hold tightened in his right hand and pulled, forcing the demon to expose his neck, as he sank his blunted human teeth into the flesh. The moment the velvety essence embraced his tongue, he stiffened and shuddered, imploding inside and out. When he came, the release was as much physical as it was spiritual and he went boneless on his love’s silky plumage, save for his greedy lapping and suckling at the wound he’d inflicted onto his mate.

Sebastian shuddered as Ciel’s teeth broke his flesh and that ever clever sharp little tongue lapped at the blood that spilled from the wound. He growled low and feral as Ciel came and in turn forced him from the precipice of his own climax. It crashed over him like violent waves in an endlessly churning sea. His hips slammed forward, sank him in as deeply as possible and filled his mate with the spoils of his release, the base flaring rapidly and tying them as surely as the bond within their blood, welcomed home in the body that had no doubt been made for him. Shivers spread beneath his skin as his hands became gentle again, tender and adoring on his mate’s flesh as his fingertips stroked over the sweat-dewed skin.

After some long minutes, he drew back so as to properly look at Ciel’s flushed and sated face, braced one hand next to the damp halo of his midnight navy locks as the other traced the last runed promises upon his temples and forehead. As they glowed, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss over the last upon his brow and whispered, “Sleep now precious. You are protected.” And as Ciel settled against him and his lashes fluttered lazily only a handful times more before finally remaining closed, Sebastian tucked himself around his mate protectively and began to hum his familiar lullaby while his own eyes drifted closed.

Chapter Eighteen Blooper Reel

*Scene 18 “Dreamer” (Post nightmare- Ciel’s bed) Take Thirteen*

**Ciel _(solemnly to Sebastian)_ :** Fine. But let Poe tend to my wounds.”

**Sebastian:** Why him? He doesn’t even have hands or lips…

**Poe _(preening and smug as fuck)_ :** That’s exactly why he likes me better.

**Sebastian _(scoffing)_ :** That’s only because he doesn’t know what you do to his pillow when he’s out of the room or how _affectionate_ you get with his hand while he’s sleeping..

**Poe:** You can’t blame me… How do humans say it? Early bird gets the blueberry muffin. _(Nuzzling Ciel’s hair and rubbing it in Sebastian’s face.)_ You mad bro?

_(Sebastian huffs and storms out to go prepare breakfast, grumbling under his breath about only being wanted for his body. Poe waist until the whining can’t be heard anymore before he hops off Ciel to dig under Sebastian’s pillow and pull out a leather bound journal and drag it closer to the young man.)_

**Poe:** Thought he’d never take the hint... Now where were we... _(Immediately opening the journal and plucking at the pages until he found the last entry they’d been reading.)_ Ah yes, here we are… Sebastian’s Journal, November the twenty-third, year, two-thousand seventeen… God who writes it like that? He’s prehistoric… Moving on… _I still don’t know what to do… I cannot find a way to remove the pictures Grell Sutcliffe has posted on his fanbase. The Google has been unhelpful and the comments have become quite frightening as of late… Not even Lady Elizabeth is as creative as some of these young ladies…_

*Scene Nineteen “Dreamer” (Devil’s Bathtub, Virginia) Take Eleven*

_(Sebastian’s orgasm crashed over him like violent waves in an endlessly churning sea. His hips slammed forward, sank him in as deeply as possible and filled his mate with the spoils of his release, the base flaring rapidly and tying them as surely as the bond within their blood, welcomed home in the body that had no doubt been made for him.)_

**Ciel _(Conscious for the first time after having sex with Sebastian- though barely- feels something expands inside him and looks down to where he and his mate are joined together, then seeing that they are done tries to get free)_ :** What the actual fuck, Sebastian! Let go of me!

**Sebastian _(With a smirk)_ :** Sorry butterfly, you’re going to have to wait anywhere between thirty-minutes to an hour.

**Ciel _(Giving the demon an incredulous look)_ :** Wh-? How? Damn it, Sebastian, I have a cramp! _(He gets more upset the more Sebastian’s smile grows)_

**Sebastian _(wincing as Ciel continues to try to dislodge himself)_ :** This’ll hurt you more than me if you keep it up.

**Ciel:** But I can’t get off!

**Sebastian:** I’m sure you just did, that’s why we’re in this predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An excerpt found by Poe ripped from the demon's own personal journal: 
> 
> Homebound
> 
> Take my hand  
> And hold  
> Away  
> Navigate betwixt the labyrinth  
> Of Heaven's lurid narrows  
> And Angel's follied whimsy  
> Of Devil's sinned delight  
> And Hell's cleverly guised respite  
> To moon  
> And star  
> And endless night
> 
> Wear my cage  
> Like broach  
> Like trinket  
> Locketed lover  
> Upon your breast  
> Beguiling with promise  
> Soul starved revelation  
> On silver-blue and powdered wing  
> Dappled in fevered kiss and taste, and sigh  
> Whereby your lips  
> Salvation
> 
> Whisper sweetly in me  
> Of heartbeats  
> And hollowed things  
> Of Eden's scent  
> And shaded breaths  
> Of home  
> Where I can rest


	20. Solicitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the chapter: Dress to Kill
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Know Your Enemy by Green Day](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9IclmVdWNbI&index=83&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~  Bad Things by Jace Everett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued support and encouragement! We love your comments & responding to them. 
> 
> The next three chapters were actually one long chapter - lots of plot & important details- hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! :)

Ciel woke the next morning from a dreamless slumber, ensconced in the warmth of his lover’s arms, feeling as though he’d slept for days. He remembered making love to his mate, but not falling so deeply asleep that the extent to which Sebastian had gone to ensure his sleep (as well as an absence of aches the morning after) remained a mystery. 

They took some time to bathe in the Devil’s Bathtub, the demon coaxing the water to feel more like a hot spring instead of the near polar dip it should have been on December first. It was only once they got out and Ciel ran to the car shivering and teeth chattering that he noticed his bag of clothes was missing from the backseat. “Not only do you have the audacity to destroy two of my outfits in under forty-eight hours, but you also overlooked packing my clothes?” Sebastian gave a knowing sly look to the teen as both of them knew full well that this most uncharacteristic oversight was done on purpose with the sole intent of dressing the young man up like some oversized doll. 

And so he did, conjuring a crisp white dress shirt, a dark green dressage coat, fitted with a double-breasted bodice and a waist seam to accentuate his mate’s slight stature, matching green shorts, celestial blue neck bow, leather gartered sock clips worn below the knee and highly polished black buckled ankle boots. As if _that_ wasn’t enough, Sebastian presented him with a walking stick as well as a sapphire ring for his thumb and a gold signet ring for his right hand. It resembled something from the late Victorian era, and befitted Ciel in the way that it might suit someone of noble standing.

He got into the car thoroughly irked and griping about how ridiculous the whole thing was, only to have Sebastian unsuccessfully try to mollify him by pointing out that it wasn’t like he was going to run into anyone at the specified location and that he was merely trying to make sure that they would blend in with the individuals that did show up. 

“Honestly Sebastian,” he began for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour, “I saw a Hugo Boss just ten minutes back… I’ll even let you pick something out. Just not this. I can barely tell whether we’re working an assignment on behalf of the Vatican or going to Comicon.” He braced himself, his hands clutching the leather seat of the vehicle as Sebastian abruptly put the car in park outside a dilapidated building and turned to face him.

“Perhaps I would see the irony in what you speak of if I knew what in the bloody hells Comicon is. As I’ve said already, this apparel will be far more fitting and stand out much less in this particular venue than you seem to realize. The Victorian era was one most favoured by the majority of my unholy and holy kin, so it is in our favour to dress as such. Besides, it suits you quite stunningly butterfly,” Sebastian replied once again, threads of exasperation underlying the tone of his words, obviously frustrated for having to explain his choice in clothing for them _again_. 

He straightened his own dark and staunchly pressed tail coat, adjusting his tie and lapels with white-gloved fingertips, and brushed away nonexistent lint before he looked to the apparent abandoned warehouse which when one _truly_ looked was not abandoned at all. A number of runes and symbols decorated the outer walls of the structure, guards loitering at the entrance with garish faces beneath donned human guises, admitting all those of his kin that provided the adequate and proper fee to gain entrance. That particular fee came in the form of children, some leashed or cuffed, or simply entranced as they were led to be inspected by the guards, admitted and traded no doubt to other minions once inside. The choice in currency was one that immediately struck the demon’s interest and rose suspicion in his skin. No doubt, this most prestigious event was being hosted by one of his kin, certainly one of higher rank to have such an abundance of guards and followers mulling about. They had not brought an offering for their own admission and Sebastian took pause to consider how best to get around such an obstacle.

Ciel rolled his eyes petulantly at Sebastian’s sharp tone and leaned forward to get a better look at where they had parked. He glanced towards his demon then back at the building then searched his lover’s face for any trace that their location might be a joke. “For individuals who value the refinement of the late eighteen hundreds, their choice of venue is somewhat lacking, isn’t it?” 

Sebastian's gaze rolled skywards for a long moment as he gathered his already thinning patience. After the brief, but rather charged silence, he turned in his seat to look at his mate, reaching to turn Ciel's gaze and gesturing with his other hand to the building in question as he spoke, "You were expecting a blinking sign and some glorious unholy hall for such an occasion? Certainly, it is not what it appears to be. You are no longer blind if you wish to _see_. You need only look to know what is true and what is not sweetling," he said, waiting for his mate to realize what his mortal sight was not privy to, but the newly acquired second sight that the revelation of Sebastian's true form had equipped him with could indeed show him. 

Ciel needed to properly view what remained unseen to the mortal race if they were to attend such a gathering and not draw any further suspicion from his kin; this was not the place for ignorance. It was dangerous and potentially deadly to exude any such naivety once they had been admitted within the den of the unnatural that would be acting as an underworld auction house. And Sebastian cursed himself for not having the forethought or time to properly prepare his mate for what was to come.

“Now is that any way to speak to your _master_ , Sebastian?” Ciel replied defiantly, roughly pulling his face from the demon’s grip. He huffed as he turned his head back towards the building, grumbling about how his lover could have just told him about the _sight_ he now possessed instead of belittling him with condescension and sarcasm. A fine mood this put him in when they had to work together. 

Ciel lifted his eyepatch, pushing it back onto his head, glad that at least this outfit hadn’t come with some kind of top hat or fascinator. He squinted a moment when his view sharpened somewhat and he made out the vast symbols glowing whiter against the already white concrete from which the building was made. He couldn’t decipher the runes, but assumed they were some kind of wards. The aramaic was easy enough and he sneered at what he read because it was as good as the blinking sign Sebastian had scoffed at, an invitation for the debauchery of innocents, lechery of the most perverse kind, Faustian bargaining and the consumption of … of a list of _things_ so long that it wound itself around the building. 

Shifting his gaze as he squirmed in his seat, he took in the individuals surrounding the building and bile made itself known in his mouth, leaving a sour, bitter tang there as he dry washed his hands and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He fought the compulsion to look away, knowing he’d be chastised for it by Sebastian, and exposed his sight long enough to the vulgar features for them to be unsettling rather than shockingly vile. 

His eyes fell on the children accompanying those entering the building, clearly not of their own accord, and he was reminded of the many news broadcasts they’d heard on the radio and updates he’d received on his phone that spoke of children (in the hundreds) that had gone missing in and around the state of Louisiana in the past month. He swallowed and wet his lips before turning to face the demon in the driver’s seat, “So the children are the cost of admission? If that’s the case, how do you propose we pay? I’d offer to pose as one myself, but I look much too old as compared to the four and five year olds being brought in...” He wasn’t exactly sure how well he himself would fare at procuring a child for them, though he expected it would take little to no effort for Sebastian…

Sebastian didn’t respond verbally to Ciel’s defiance, simply narrowing his eyes and observing his mate as Ciel finally _saw_ what was really before them. He could smell the distaste rolling off his mate as he took in the marked building, the true faces of the individuals both guarding and entering the structure and the children that were acting as currency for this particular event. 

“Though I am quite sure I could make your appearance that of a child, I would rather not expose you to that danger. The risk is far too great for harm to come to you in that state and placed in such a position. I had not been aware that this particular payment would be required for this assignment. Luckily, my familiar is always at my disposal for such occasions,” he answered Ciel’s inquiry, the dark concern coiling in his core hardly abating as he spoke. He looked to Ciel’s lap where Poe sat preening and called his attention with a low, haunting whistle. The raven responded immediately, meeting Sebastian’s gaze and holding it. In a matter of seconds the bird began to shift forms right in Cie’s lap. A burst of dark feathers swirled around his form, weaving and knitting together and when all was said and done, a child of some handful of years in appearance sat in his place in Ciel’s lap, eyes and raven hair not unlike Sebastian’s, in fact the child could have been a reflection of what the demon’s human form might have resembled as a child or perhaps a relation of his. 

“That should do,” Sebastian said, looking over the form he’d impressed on his familiar for the moment. Dressed in a finely tailored outfit similar to Ciel’s, but in shadowed violet tones and black accents, the boy child looked over his shoulder at the young man he was still perched upon and smiled cheekily. 

“How do I look mistress?” Poe asked in a hauntingly childlike voice, kicking his newly acquired feet playfully. He could get used to having a human form like this, especially if he would still be allowed to sit in Ciel’s lap as he was then. 

“No. No.” Ciel shook his head vehemently, unconsciously clutching the childlike Poe to his chest, “Out of the question. If it’s too dangerous for me… just… just use me instead, Sebastian.”

“It’s not up for negotiation butterfly. Should the worst happen, Poe can be remade, you cannot,” Sebastian replied with no room for argument, not at all inclined to compromise on the matter. He intended to keep Ciel as close as possible while within the walls of the warded structure. The warding was both instructive and cautioning. There was to be no violence within the event, at least not amongst its guests, no squabbling or quarreling that could result in otherworldly bloodshed, most common at these sorts of venues for his kind. It was a courtesy and rule that all attending agreed to abide when entering into such an event.There were no doubt creatures of every sort attending, some of which were natural enemies, but all feuds were set aside, temporary truces and stalemates erected in order to participate in the auction and Sebastian, like the others would be bound to abide the rules regardless should Ciel accidentally offend any of the others present. The thought that he may not be able to protect his mate made his anxiety grow tenfold. 

“This assignment is much more dangerous than even the masque had been sweetling. Though offenses here cannot be avenged while in attendance, once we leave the wards, any enemies we might make here will have no qualms in demanding their retribution. This is a most unsettling assignment for a newly graduated exorcist. Not even your father or your father’s father had ever been sent on such an excursion. We cannot afford to take this lightly. We must be vigilant and tread carefully, for even I do not possess the understanding in the motivations of your employers in this order. It is most certainly cause for suspicion,” he said warningly, unable to keep his silence over this most disconcerting development.

Sebastian’s words sobered Ciel and he gave a curt nod of understanding to his partner. He’d loosened his hold on the child sitting on his lap and had begun unwittingly petting his silky ebony hair with affection, as he had the habit of doing when the familiar was in his raven’s form. “Fine. I’ll defer to you for this event, Sebastian; but this is an order, you will _not_ allow Poe’s life to be forfeit. I don’t want him unnecessarily _remade_.” He put his finger to the demon’s pursed lips before he could reply, taking note of the annoyance there, “And I don’t want to hear anything about it. It’s an order and that’s final.” 

He fixed his eyepatch, grabbed Sebastian by the lapels and forcibly brought him in for a kiss before they would get out of the car, only stopping short when he heard the tiniest clearing of a throat. He moved back as the heat rose to his cheeks and saw the child’s wine-coloured orbs look at him with an amused expression. “You’re lucky you’re cute Poe… God, I won't ever be able to… you know… do _that_ in your presence ever again.”

Sebastian heaved a sigh inwardly, but didn’t argue with the order, doubting Ciel would be swayed even if he did; the boy had quite obviously grown fond of his familiar. He leaned in for the kiss his mate was clearly initiating and let out a soft growl when Ciel abruptly stilled without following through. He drew away and snorted in response to Ciel’s follow up words to Poe while the raven-turned-human just giggled, plump cheeks flushed with a rosy tint, and reached out to take hold of Ciel’s hand possessively without hesitation. 

“You spoil him,” Sebastian commented as he moved to get out of the vehicle and make his way around to the passenger side to assist his mate and the child clinging to him out. Not one to be bested by a child let alone his own damn familiar, he wasted no time in slipping his arm around Ciel’s waist opposite where the little boy hummed contentedly and swung CIel’s hand in his, obviously revelling in the ability to do so in the form he was currently in.

Without further delay, the trio walked towards the building and Ciel was unsurprised when they met a long line ahead of them. It reminded him of all the times he'd gone to a new club opening with his fake i.d. in hand, a complete phony trying to get into a place he really shouldn't be. 

His hand gripped Poe’s smaller one a little tighter the closer they got to the front of the line and Ciel forced his face to remain as impassive as Sebastian’s, though he was sure neither one of them felt this way.

Poe was the only child in the line that was practically skipping, still humming and swinging Ciel’s hand happily, perfectly unfazed by where they were heading and fully aware of the role he was playing. Sebastian hugged Ciel a little closer to his side as they moved towards the head of the line where the demonic guards were looking over the attendees and admitting those that provided the proper admission fee. 

Any children that appeared already used or abused were promptly turned away which were few since most of the beings attending were well aware of the customs when it came to rendering payment to attend these events. Regardless of what the required fee was, generally it was customary to provide the payment in top form and condition, no exceptions.

When they reached the head of the line, Poe grinned brightly at the two guards which smiled wickedly right back at the child. “Precocious little thing, ain’t he?” one of them commented, looking at Sebastian with a knowing glint behind iridescent charcoal eyes, “The boss’ll like that.”

Sebastian smiled with false politeness, inclining his head as he replied, “Indeed. Am I to assume the payment is adequate for our entrance?”

The guard looked to his partner which was scrutinizing Poe and Ciel with a calculative and interested eye. Sebastian cleared his throat and narrowed his feline eyes in warning. The second guard grinned at him and nodded and both stepped out of the way to admit the trio inside where another set of underlings, females this time, Harpies if he wasn’t mistaken, were waiting to take Poe and lead him away to be prepared and stored with the other children in some place private for their master.

Ciel’s first instinct was to not let go of Poe’s hand, and it certainly wasn’t to let him skip happily to the woman-vulture hybrids who waited for him with arms outstretched. He felt Sebastian’s hold tense around his waist as his fingers dug into his hip and his own hand fell empty at his side. 

Despite its appearance on the outside, the interior of the ramshackled warehouse was nothing short of opulent. Sebastian had not been exaggerating when he spoke of the otherworldly beings’ preference for the Victorian era; the very room in which they stood was flooded in such grand excesses of ornamentation that it bordered on tacky. 

Ciel plastered a sweet, but enticing smile on his face as he wiggled out of his mate’s hold to stand before him, his small frame pressed almost intimately against the demon’s. He looked up at Sebastian from under his lashes and wet his lips as his hand brushed his mate’s angular jaw with a featherlight touch, sweeping back the longer fringe from his face before he stood on the tips of his toes to plant a chaste kiss on the corner of his lover’s mouth. As though getting the hint, Sebastian let himself be fawned over, inclined his head and lowered himself somewhat so that Ciel could wrap both arms suggestively around his neck and whisper, “Do you think we’re here regarding the multiple child disappearances? Are you still able to see as your familiar sees?”

Sebastian in turn loosely wrapped his arms around Ciel’s waist, watching beyond his mate discreetly as Ciel’s breathy words washed over his throat. He turned his head to press his own mouth beneath Ciel’s ear, lips barely moving as he spoke, “I can, though it is somewhat clouded by the wards. It seems the most likely reason we’ve been sent here. There are rather a lot of beings in attendance of this event so there must be quite the sum of children hidden in the host’s private chambers.”

He pulled away and smiled pleasantly at the demonic avian half breeds, inclining his head to which they giggled and waved them onwards. He held Ciel close to his side as he led him further down the hall, speaking loud enough for any eavesdroppers that might be listening to hear, “Come sweetling, there’s much to see. If you behave yourself, I’ll reward you with something pretty.” 

At the end of the hall was a large room where an assortment of objects, holy and unholy as well as jeweled souls and equally lavish pets were being displayed for purchase. A moderately large number of otherworldly beings were already mingling and mulling about, some haggling and bartering between themselves, trading slaves and items as well as gossip and information. There were various pets on leashes, trailing alongside their gaudily dressed masters, displaying status and wealth, some even familiar from the masque they’d attended not so long ago. Sebastian noted the familiar faces, the statuses and power of all the individuals present with a faux nonchalance that he was able to pull off naturally and covering his distaste for the interested gazes that lingered on them in return with ease as they made their way further into the auction’s viewing room.

Ciel wasn't used to not having Sebastian's undivided attention and he tried not to let himself get jealous by it - clearly his mate was distracted, surely he was anxious, Ciel could feel it, but it didn't stop him from touching as much of the demon as possible, beaming at him adoringly as was expected of him in his role today. Sebastian-Asmodeus seemed quite popular and drew many interested stares; Ciel had to concentrate to not unconsciously meet the stares with a glare of his own for fear of offending anyone. And so he busied himself with trying to overhear bits of conversation as they meandered through the crowded room. They came by a small group of succubi in the human guise of attractive women deep in gossip.

“An espousal?!”

“In a cage no less… how utilitarian...”

“Not what you'd expect from one such as him, well, especially given his romantic past…”

“Could have had anyone at all…”

“Won't believe it til I see it…”

“You won’t have to wait long… look there.” 

Ciel turned his head, craned it in the general vicinity they were looking, trying to see whom they had been referring to.

Sebastian kept a steady and assuring hold on his mate as they leisurely moved through the room. The gossip did not escape his own notice, though he was hardly curious as to what it was regarding, given what he’d already learned during his exorcism of Balban. Let them talk; it hardly mattered what rumours were circulating through the netherworld surrounding he and Ciel. He had much more pressing matters to attend to than trying to silence the gossip of his kin, trying to ferret out Lucifer’s plans being on the top of that list.

“Don’t mind them butterfly,” he murmured, eyes flickering distantly as he connected with his familiar for a few seconds, “Poe’s been taken to a cleansing room in the basement of the building for the moment, no doubt to be purified before being placed with the other children in some other storage area.

The mention of Poe’s name made Ciel forget for whom he was looking, “As long as he’s alright,” he said under his breath knowing that Sebastian most definitely heard him. His uncovered eye wandered around the room, looking past the disturbing figures to the objects prominently displayed beyond them. Naturally, he would be drawn to them, he’d always been drawn to sacrilegious objects and as his curiosity peaked and he made to take a step in that direction, he felt a restraining hold around his waist, a warning. “Can we not just go have a look, _Asmodeus_ ,” he requested sweetly, using his lover’s demonic name in lieu of the one he prefered as they were surrounded by his kin, and then added in a hushed, sardonic tone, “You know, to _blend in_ better?” His countenance returned to one that was coquettish, but under the surface he became slightly annoyed by having to act the part of a fangirl to his own damned mate, sure that in any other instance, Sebastian would have probably enjoyed every moment of it.

Sebastian hummed, inclining his head, following his mate’s gaze to the displayed items, well-aware of Ciel’s interest in such objects and a small smile curled over his lips. “As you like sweetling,” he purred, already leading his mate towards the first of the items which he recognized as the horn of Gabriel, beyond that, the thorned crown of Christ accompanied by the spear tip that had ultimately been the cause of his death, pots of holy oils, angel’s tears, dragon’s glass from the halls of Hades, glittering souls, caged mortals that had been modified and raised as pets for the sole purpose of inhuman entertainment, herbs, perfumes, a number of crucifixes, artworks, tapestries, ancient tablets from the time of Moses and the Pharoahs, and a multitude of other articles. “Anything in particular catch your fancy precious?” he inquired idly, rubbing his hand up and down Ciel’s side.

As they approached the sought-after items on the marble slab inlaid with rare gemstones, Ciel noticed some of the beings cautiously backing away from them but this time paid no heed to what was being whispered. He wanted very much to pull out his phone to take pictures to show Soma what he was missing, but thought that _again_ , this might be misconstrued as “offensive”. The more interactions he had with the demonic world, the more he realized that they were really no different than millennials who seemed to be offended by literally _everything_.

The siren watched the couple move through the crowd as her kin gave them a large berth; the rumours of Asmodeus’ attendance had proven to be true and since she’d last seen him at the masquerade, he’d only grown more powerful, no doubt thanks to the bond that had been permanently etched with his mortal mate. In Paris, his darkened tendrils had been kept close to his person, sharply edged and palpitating restlessly, but now, the coiling auric fibers presented an almost perfect mix of demonic and angelic. They undulated like a lazy electric current waiting to crackle at moment’s notice and spread a good seven feet around them, ensnaring and tempting like the waves she’d used to pull in her past lovers; though now it was she that was drawn, completely captivated by such beauty and power that it made her ache with desire. Perhaps his mate would be amenable to a bargain, or a trade? She would have to go through him after all, the lavish engravings on his skin clearly dictated who was really master in this relationship. 

Ciel hummed in response to Sebastian’s question, _angel’s tears_ he repeated to himself when he read the label in aramaic… where were the demonic tears? Or angelic grace? Could he even ask about such objects? And forget the still warm blood of the Almighty… Damn it all, if he couldn’t find any of those items _here_ , where else would he have a hope in finding them? “Mm not here, Asmodeus, maybe we can look a little furth-”

A hand touched his own before he could finish and as he followed it from fingertip to hand, arm to face, he recognized what he’d once thought of as one of the more alluring women he’d seen in Paris; except that this time she was trying, with great difficulty and failing, to keep her true form hidden from his mortal eyes. He shuddered at her wet, slick touch and shot her an affronted, incredulous look, “Excuse me?” 

Resisting the urge to submit to the fallen’s strong aura next to the boy, she ignored the discourteous question and continued in her smooth, seductive voice, “The Phantomhive heir, I presume? I believe we’ve seen one another before in passing, and might I add, you’re ever so lovely dressed as a boy.” She smiled, inclining her head, and noticing his dissatisfaction with the items presented before them, made her move, “My name is Parthenope and I have an offer to make you. ”

Sebastian’s slitted eyes narrowed dangerously as the Siren he recognized from the night they’d attended the masque approached and immediately addressed Ciel. Her interest was clear and potent in her scent and her posturing, her eyes that flickered over his own form repeatedly before she would return them to his master. He had no doubt just what sort of proposition she had in mind for his mate. A low growl of warning rumbled in his chest. “I can assure you, neither he nor I am interested in that offer,” he said quietly, shifting against Ciel, his fingers twitching against the young man’s side, not at all pleased by the lesser being’s presumptuousness.

To say that Ciel was intrigued would have been an understatement; he was curious as to why she would have chosen to deal with himself rather than his obviously more powerful mate and given that Sebastian had extended a willingness to acquire something for him at present, she thought perhaps to offer him something _not_ on display. “What are you proposing?” he asked her, completely disregarding Sebastian’s words. 

Parthenope stretched a slender arm back behind her neck bringing her hair over her shoulder where it cascaded long and blonde like a waterfall over her ample bosom. “You’re obviously here looking for something in particular; I myself am an entrepreneur and so have many connections.” She licked her lips, looking beyond the attractive youth, mentally undressing the taller being possessively holding him and imagined the ferocity with which the demon must undo his mate. The thought made the gills beneath her clothes flutter with excitement, peaking her nipples and displaying her obvious arousal as they protruded from the thin silk high-neck blouse she wore. Composing herself, she carried on, “You merely need to tell me what it is you’re in search of and I’ll have it delivered to your front door at a time of your choosing. In exchange for my services,” she considered her words carefully, not wanting to offend the newly wed mortal with her request; perhaps showing him would be better? From within her clutch she dug out a Lady Cameo pillbox and unclasped it; the smell of fresh seaweed impregnated the space as she dipped the tip of her pointy pinky nail inside and drew a picture on his palm of herself disrobed, sitting at the very top of a collection of various sized boulders coming up from the middle of the sea, legs spread suggestively and his mate bowed on one knee between them kissing her foot. “One night is all I ask for.”

Sebastian’s lips thinned disdainfully, his distaste for the image and her proposal evident in his expression and the rigidity that stiffened his body against his mate’s. Because he was contracted to Ciel did not mean that he was for sale, least not now that their bond was not only that of master and servant, but of newly wedded mates. “Ciel,” he said in warning, noting the interest in his mate’s gaze. Ciel was clearly interested in attaining something specific and curious of the Siren’s claim to be able to procure him any such item. He didn’t know what it was that his mate was searching for, but all he need do was ask Sebastian to find it for him; there was no need to be soliciting the services of lower creatures and certainly not at the cost of his _intimate_ company for an evening. Embodiment of lust or not, he had absolutely no interest in playing whore for any other creature.

The young man withdrew his hand and promptly wiped it on his beloved's darkened tailcoat. He cocked his head looking as though he was actually considering the disgusting offer, then faced his mate whose fury rolled off him in perceptible waves. “Tempting… there are certain _ingredients_ of which I am in need that seem absent from this particular venue…” Encouraged by his lack of dismissal, the creature, this _Parthenope_ , smiled widely at him, exposing three rows of finely sharpened teeth. “Allow me to make you a counter-offer; you go fuck yourself instead and I won't have my mate devour you once you leave, in a way that would be most unpleasing.”

The siren said nothing in retaliation, quite aware that their dialogue had turned some heads and backed away some paces before turning around altogether as if the meeting had never occurred. 

Ciel fixed Sebastian with a look split between annoyance and jealousy as he possessively slid his hand into the demon’s. “I can't take you anywhere when you look this good. And for goodness sake, take off your gloves so they can at least see your contracted hand.”

Sebastian obeyed, the gloves fading from his hands as he shook his head. “Even with it displayed sweetling, the more arrogant and entitled of my kin will hardly be deterred. It is not as if they are unaware of the bond we share. They simply seek to gain whatever they might be able from it. Not all mates are as possessive or faithful as we. I must say though, I’m rather relieved by your refusal of her offer, but I am curious about these _ingredients_ you mentioned,” he said quietly, gaze flickering over the onlookers, majority of which averted their own gazes when met with his own. 

“Don't worry about it Asmodeus, it was just for the sake of talking.” He replied guiding Sebastian’s hands around his waist, resuming his role as _fawning little lover_. He rolled his hips against the demon’s body, fisting his lapels and let his possessiveness be known to the demon by his sudden aggressive need to claim him and have everyone know to whom alone he belonged, “I, on the other hand,” he began cheekily, “Might have a similar proposition for y-” but he stopped mid-word as they were approached by yet another individual. “He’s not for rent, and I'm not pimping him out, so don't bother asking,” he told the stranger defiantly through gritted teeth without turning his head to face whoever was standing behind him.

A strikingly familiar chuckle came in response to Ciel’s words accompanied by the belated scent of Oleander and nightshade. Sebastian looked beyond his mate, recognition flickering in the depths as he made contact with the two silver-haired males that approached them, one of which was dressed like the death that clung to him, all in black while the other was garbed in a similar fashion, but with serpentine accessories and patches of iridescent scale on his pale skin to match.

“Not ta worry lil Phantom. E’s not me type,” Undertaker’s cheerily accented reply came, a crooked grin on his mouth as his eyes traveled over the couple knowingly, his own arm wrapped around his mate loosely. “I might’ve guessed ya’d be ‘ere. Ya’re both looking rather daper, ” his gaze lingered on Sebastian’s and he winked, “Made an honest bloke o’ ya ‘asn’t ‘e Asmodeus? When I saw all o’ dem pretty promises on ‘is skin, I almost couldn’ believe me peepers. ‘Ad ta come ‘ave a looksee up close and give ya both me salutations and congratulations on yer nuptials, didn’ I love? Seems our lil Phantom took me advice right t’art, didn’ ‘e?” he commented, giving Snake a squeeze around the middle and grinning, completely undeterred by Ciel’s dark toned words and Sebastian’s growl of warning in response to his observations, and wholly uncaring of the attention of the other beings present that their interaction was attracting. 

“Well thank fuck… at least he's not _somebody's_ type,” Ciel answered petulantly before he could process the rest of what the newcomer had said; and he still hadn’t when he recognized the accented tone of the stranger, and his use of _lil Phantom_. The mortal turned away from his lover almost comically slow and swallowed nervously as a perceptible spike in his pulse confirmed his anxiety. Undertaker. He appeared as odd and as eccentric as he had sounded in the confessional and with his mate, they seemed perfectly matched. Ciel knew, of course, that it made sense for this individual to be at such an event, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that the animancer would be brash and blasé enough to approach him in front of his mate. _Damn it, what if he let something slip_ …

It was only when he saw Undertaker extend a hand to the demon that Ciel asked himself _why_. Something about _congratulations_ and _nuptials_? His apprehension was quickly replaced by a growing temper; now the gossip made sense with its mention of a cage and Sebastian’s past. He turned on his mate with nostrils flaring, standing a little taller to properly glare at him, so upset that his menacing tone was almost inaudibly low. “ _We_ were the espoused those _individuals_ were talking about? What the actual fuck, _Asmodeus._ ” 

Though Snake thought his mate had been tactless by divulging this information, he couldn't entirely fault him for it since the joy this couple’s union had brought him had made him even more alluring. In the days that had passed since Ciel and Asmodeus’ bond had been made everlasting, his mate’s green eyes had glowed a little brighter, his touch had become more reverently playful and his orders to the reapers more creative and discerning. He cleared his throat when a small gathering of guests began moving in, “Mm Emily says that this might not be the best place in which to have a _domestic_ ,” The serpent itself left the comfort of his master’s neck and slithered down his partially extended arm to stretch its length and wind itself around the young mortal’s wrist in warning.

Sebastian growled again and Undertaker clicked his tongue, eyes sparkling as he chided, “Ya didn’ tell ‘im did ya? Asmodeus, you oughta know better’n ta keep dem sorts o’ thin’s a secret from yer mate by now. Ya know wha’ they say, a ‘appy wife makes fer a ‘appy life.” Looking between the fallen angel, the young man and his mate, Undertaker reached out to stroke long, scarred fingers over the serpent that had wrapped itself around Ciel’s wrist and carefully uncoiled Emily from the pale limb. “I’d take ‘im in un o’ dem private powder rooms an’ make it up ta ‘im real quick like if’n I was in yer shoes,” he finished as he brought Emily up to his face and gave her a peck on the head, cooing at her affectionately before glancing back at Sebastian, “Git a move on den boyo, dem ‘pologies ain’t gonna say ‘emselves.”

Sebastian grit his teeth, and narrowed his glowing eyes at the older male, but didn’t argue, very much aware that it would have no effect even if he did. He was well acquainted with the particular reaper, had been as far back as he could remember, even before he’d fallen, even between the pockmarked memories of his past, they’d met a number of times. Maltheal, close kin of God himself, something like his uncle if Sebastian had to label him as a member of his own kin and just as powerful, though his personality was something entirely different. He’d always been eccentric and Sebastian had always gotten on well enough with him. He huffed, but grasped Ciel’s wrist in his hand and tugged him into the nearest private powder room as Undertaker had so graciously suggested, before any of the other attendees got any more  
curious. Nosy bastards…

Chapter Nineteen Blooper Reel

*Scene 19 “Solicitation” (Ciel’s Maserati- New Orleans Warehouse)Take Three*

**Sebastian _(unimpressed)_ :** You were expecting a blinking sign and some glorious unholy hall for such an occasion? Certainly, it is not what it appears to be. You are no longer blind if you wish to _see_. You need only look to know what is true and what is not sweetling.

_(Ciel lifts his eyepatch, pushing it back onto his head and squinted a moment before he sees a variety of minion demons carting around sacs of toys, individually wrapped, and heaving them into a large sleigh. Eight children are secured at the front of it on all fours awaiting the command from a red-clad Belphegor whistling Xmas carols.)_

**Ciel _(sputtering)_ :** I certainly wasn’t expecting this. Explain.

**Sebastian:** Did you really think it was Jesus that put the Christ in Christmas? He wasn’t even born in December as far I remember.

**Ciel _(rubbing his eyes trying to rid himself of the sight of Santa with multiple piercings)_ :** First you ruin my clothes, then you ruin my Comicon joke, now Christmas? Is nothing sacred anymore? 

**Sebastian:** No sweetling, first I ruined your ass, everything else is collateral. 

**Ciel:** Let’s get one thing straight, Sebastian, the expression is “Destroyed my ass”...

**Sebastian:** Semantics.

**Ciel _(blushing)_ :** But you did ruin me for anyone else... 

**Sebastian _(smirking)_ :** Obviously. You were born to be mine.

_(Poe making gagging noises to which Sebastian narrows his eyes and with a snap of his fingers, Poe is transformed into a human child with reindeer antlers and a glowing red nose.)_

**Sebastian:** Better hurry along now, they need your nose to guide the sleigh. Chop chop Rudolph.

_(Poe grumbles, but obeys while Ciel is squinting with a furrowed brow at the scene.)_

**Ciel:** Does… Does Santa Claus have nipple rings?

**Sebastian _(unfazed and reaching to pull Ciel into his lap)_ :** Well yes he does. He has a dark past. He goes by Santa now, but in the old days, they called him Belsnickle… Come now, don’t mind him, tell me have you been impish or admirable this year? 

**Ciel _(grinning)_ :** If I say _impish_ will you smack my bottom with a stick? 

**Sebastian _(smirking wickedly in return)_ :** Who’s to say I won’t smack your bottom even if you say admirable?  
**Ciel:** Will I get two smacks if I say both?

**Sebastian _(groping Ciel’s rear before giving it a swat)_ :** I don’t think two would be enough...

*Scene 19 “Solicitation” (Ciel’s Maserati- New Orleans Warehouse)Take Five*

**Ciel:** You’re lucky you’re cute Poe… God, I won't ever be able to… you know… do _that_ in your presence ever again.

**Poe _(batting his lashes innocently)_ :** Do what mistress?

**Ciel _(eyes widening and looking at Sebastian for help)_ :** You know… _THAT_...

**Sebastian _(under his breath)_ :** Like hell he doesn’t know. Considering what the little shit does to your pillow right next to your head while you’re sleeping…

**Poe _(shooting a glare at Sebastian before turning back to Ciel, looking completely angelic)_ :** What do you mean by _THAT_ mistress? Is it something you can’t share with me? _(giving Ciel a teary does-eyed look)_ Am I not good enough to keep your secrets?

**Ciel _(Pleading Sebastian with this eyes for him to take over, but when he refuses, he takes a Post-It Note and Sharpie from the glove compartment, and starts drawing the familiar a stick-figure representation)_ :** You see, Poe… When a mortal and a demon _really_ love one another… _(turns to face Sebastian)_ Why am I the one having to teach **your** familiar about the birds and the bees?

**Sebastian _(blinking slowly, amusement in his eyes)_ :** You realize he is not actually a child, but millennia old and has seen far more nefarious things that what we’ve gotten up to. He’s simply putting you on because you are so adorably gullible sweetling.

**Ciel _(crossing his arms over his chest and frowns)_ :** I thought we agreed that you were also a virgin when we got together… 

**Sebastian _(clearing his throat)_ :** Born again…

_(Poe giggling impishly)_

*Scene 19 “Solicitation” (Viewing Room- New Orleans ~~Warehouse~~ **Whorehouse** )Take Twelve*

**Sebastian _(A low growl of warning rumbling in his chest)_ :** I can assure you, neither he nor I am interested in that offer.

**Ciel _(puts a hand out on Sebastian’s chest)_ :** Wait… you don’t get to speak for me… let’s hear her out. 

**Sebastian _(unamused, crossing his arms over his chest)_ :** I’m not a whore...

**Ciel:** Yet.. _(pulling the succubus aside and speaking to her in hushed tones)_ One hour… _(pockets a bag of green herbs that looks suspiciously like a caprese salad)_

**Sebastian _(scowling)_ :** This is not a part of our contract...

**Ciel _(takes out his phone and scrolls through pictures until he happens upon an image of said contract)_ :** It’s not _not_ in our contract…

**Sebastian _(huffing a suffering sigh)_ :** I’m not doing it. I’m allergic to shellfish.

**Ciel _(handing Sebastian an EpiPen)_ :** Don’t make this harder than it has to be…

**Sebastian:** Trust me, nothing about this will be hard… 

**Ciel:** Sebastian, stop your bitching… this is an order. 

**Sebastian _(through gritted teeth)_ :** Yes my pimp…

**Ciel _(exasperated)_ :** How the bleeding Christ do you not know what Comicon is, but you have a thorough knowledge about modern sex trade lingo?


	21. Dealbreaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of this chapter: Forgive others for yourself, first.
> 
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Earned it by The Weeknd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xe_iCkFsQKE&index=5&list=RDJPIhUaONiLU)  
> Ciel~  Bruises and Bitemarks by Good With Grenades

Ciel saw where he was being shepherded and once their course was set, he tore his wrist from Sebastian’s grasp and took long strides before him, refusing to play a submissive role to his mate any longer. He pushed open the door, letting it bang loudly against the wall, causing two framed pictures to fall and shatter onto the floor and strode to the sink to rid his hand of the etching whose residue still stained his palm.  
Once he’d finished, he simply stood there in front of the sink, wrenched the eyepatch from his person, tossing it to the ground then hazarded a glance in the gilded mirror set just above. As he expected, Sebastian was standing at a distance, but his reflection was one of his true form rather than his human guise. Ciel looked back down, clutching the sides of the sink, refusing to make eye contact and trying to control his breathing, knowing his calming inhalations were too deep to go unnoticed. Why hadn’t Sebastian told him? Had it been an accident that he was seeking to undo? Had it been intentional at first, but was now something he regretted? Was he ashamed? A strong feeling of rejection swelled in his chest and for once, he remained quiet.

Sebastian watched his mate through the reflection in the mirror, acutely aware of the distress and upset in the young man. He could hear the strained breaths and could feel the thrum of his upset through their bond. He drew in his own breath, stepping towards his lover tentatively and reaching out as if to touch him, though his fingers barely kissed the other male’s shoulder blades, ghosting over them. “Ciel,” he said, voice soft, full of concern and apology. He really hadn’t meant for it to come out like this nor for it to cause his mate such distraught. “I hadn’t meant to keep it from you, not really. I was afraid that it was too soon. You’d only just accepted me… I hadn’t expected our bond to evolve so quickly and I was afraid you would reject it if you knew what you’d done without realizing you’d done it,” he tried to explain, words quiet and fading as he fought to find the right ones, uncertain and concerned the ones he chose were the wrong ones.

Ciel’s head came up to look at Sebastian’s reflection, still unable to face him. “You actually think this is about being _married_ to you… or whatever it is you demons call it? You think I actually have a problem being bound to you this way? And for the record, I hadn’t _only just_ accepted you; I thought you knew... How could you _not_ know?” How was it even possible for the demon’s deception to be more hurtful at this point? Had he not made things clear? Had he not offered his very _soul_ to his mate?

Sebastian’s brow furrowed as he met Ciel’s eyes through the mirror, not quite understanding, “I had thought I did before, but you rebuffed me, said it was meaningless and then you came to me and you took the bindings from my cage and made yourself my home without realizing the gravity of it. I had hoped… I know now what you feel for me, but I couldn’t be sure then how you might perceive this marriage. There is so much you do not know, that you do not understand and I am the same. You are mortal and I am not; given our history and what I’ve observed of mortal love, I can only speculate on how you might react to such things. I did not want to frighten you or cause you distress, but I’ve obviously made a mistake. I am learning as we go Ciel. I’ve not done this before. Am I not entitled to make mistakes as you have?”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me, Sebastian,” he said finally spinning about and slapping away the demon’s inhuman hand that had been suspended as though waiting to sooth him; he would not be comforted at this moment with his temper threatening to boil over. “It was no _mistake_ that you kept two vital pieces of information from me in less than twenty-four hours. Do you plan on making a habit of omitting information, instead of trusting that I might be able to handle it?” He took a step forward, then another, aggressively pushing into Sebastian’s space and making him retreat the same amount of paces. “And I recall telling you after that red-headed reaper incident that omission was a form of lying; are you choosing to forfeit our initial contract?” It was only when the words came out that Ciel realized he’d gone too far.

Sebastian was quiet for several long seconds. Was Ciel’s reaction not enough to prove his point? He’d been afraid of this, had suspected his mate might react poorly, be overwhelmed, misunderstand and end up hurt and lashing out and here it was, exactly as he’d feared. “I don’t… I _can’t_... Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I had meant to protect you, to avoid this very thing and I was obviously wrong. I am not perfect butterfly and neither are you. It is unfair for you to expect such from me when I am as much new to this as you are. And for you to accuse me, to condemn me for the secrets I’ve kept with the intention of protecting you when you are clearly keeping secrets of your own for reasons to which I am not privy is entirely hypocritical, surely you must see that. Even so, I will forgive you your secrets and beg your forgiveness in return because regardless of how many times I stumble, and how much it aches in me to know you still doubt me, I cannot be without you anymore. My omissions were never meant to cause you pain which is clear given the fact that I have not been punished by our covenant. In future, I will try to be more forthcoming; that is all I can promise. Is that not enough? What more can I offer in penance?” he replied, voice holding a tone of vulnerable desperation and none of his normal confidence, pleading because he was sorry he had not spoken sooner, had held to his silence stubbornly in the hopes of keeping his mate free of unnecessary stress. He had failed miserably, but the sentiment had been pure in nature.

“You think that counts as an apology? At best it's a backhanded one! Why don't you let me educate you a bit, Sebastian … you don't start off with a statement of remorse then add a “but” and finish off with an accusation of your own. It takes away from the contrition of the whole thing…” Ciel’s frustration kept him pushing Sebastian until he could push no more and the demon’s back came upon the wall. He could see his mate’s regret in the tightening of his demonic features, in how he kept his tail low and coiled around one of his own legs, even his inky plumage drooped slightly. It was so uncharacteristically Sebastian that it made Ciel resent his outburst. He placed a hand tentatively, gently to the sorrowful scaled face as his own features and tone softened. Still, he had to make quite sure his love understood that he would not tolerate being treated unequally in their relationship by being kept in the dark. An uncomfortable silence passed between them as he collected his thoughts and rested his forehead against Sebastian. “Leaving me to my own ignorance did not protect me against your brother did it?” He spoke in a whisper. “And if you were still unsure of my feelings at the time of our nuptials, then there should have been no doubt after last night. In all the moments you held me and after the passion we shared, why not say anything then?” 

His hand wound gently in the tangle of hair at the back of his lover’s head and he pulled it downwards and towards himself until they shared breath. “And I am indeed hiding something from you, a _gift_ , something precious,” heat rushed to his face as he drank of his mate’s intoxicating scent and he had to concentrate on finishing his sentence, “but _your_ ignorance of it will not result in your demise or your humiliation.”

Sebastian had no words, no excuses because Ciel was not wrong, but he also was not right. The fallen angel had been afraid, unaccustomed and certain that his mate would reject him had he told him though Ciel had in fact, as he’d said, clearly shown his own devotion, but Sebastian had felt the echo of doubt in him even then, however fleeting it had been, it had been enough to stay his words, to assure his secrets for another day. It had been his mistake and he should have perhaps known better, but he had never been in such a situation, had never loved so desperately and he had never, in all his vast memory, been made so vulnerable or afraid as he had been by the very idea of its loss, no matter how unlikely it may be at this point. He’d thought to protect his mate, but he had also been protecting himself.

There were no proper, no adequate apologies for the mistrust he had placed between them again. Best intentions or not, he should have been honest, should have explained and not taken his lover’s naivety and ignorance for granted. Even though he had made mention of the things he knew Ciel was keeping from him, he did not find suspicion in himself for them. Ciel could keep his secrets as long as he liked; Sebastian had all the time in the world to know them and regardless of what they were, he had no doubt that his mate would be forgiven. For Sebastian, Ciel would always be forgiven. 

He was sorry, but what was done was done; he could take back his mistake no more than he could take back the devotion he had for his young lover. If he acknowledged Ciel’s words, he condemned himself; if he denied them, he equally condemned himself. He could only vow not to be so careless again. So he did as Ciel’s fingers fisted in his hair and his mate drew him in, stared into the mismatched and wholly beautiful depths of his eyes as his words ghosted over his lips.

“I am an imperfect being; that is no secret. I am not infallible, nor invincible. The things you make me feel unbalance me, cloud my judgement, both elate and madden me. I cannot right the past I have already written, though I might regret it, I can only promise a future in which I do not intentionally repeat it. I will keep no more secrets from you regardless of how I might wish to spare you sweetling,” he pledged, leaning in to close the distance that remained between them, finally let his hands find purchase on his mate’s body and drew him further in, pressed his lips to Ciel’s and sealed the vow into their bond with a whispered, “ _Promise,_ ” in the language of angels, breathing it into his mate so that Ciel might swallow it and know that he meant it.

Though Ciel did not understand Enochian, he could recognize its melodic intonation and felt its meaning as it glowed in pulsing bursts where it settled in his chest and rivalled his shame for having reduced his mate in such a way. He didn’t deepen the kiss, though he would have liked to; instead, his hands left Sebastian’s hair, tenderly brushed the column of his neck and moved downwards until he found the elongated fingers around his waist and released himself from his mate’s grasp to turn and lean into him. “I'm insecure… “ he muttered self-consciously. “I’ve never been insecure before, not since you. No matter how much you tell me, no matter how much you show me, I'm insecure… and I don’t like or understand this vulnerability. And because you rouse these feelings in me, I take your failings personally; so when you deceive me, even if it’s done for my own good or with the best of intentions, I believe it’s because you perceive me to be weak. It’s no secret your kin thinks less of mine, but that you might think of me in such a way…” 

His voice grew ever more solemn the more he talked, but he felt he owed it to Sebastian to properly explain. “It's what drove me to say that the intimacy we shared was meaningless. You have no idea how completely vexing and intimidating, and if I’m completely honest, embarrassing it is to be so inexperienced only to fall for the being whose existence is responsible for sowing the seeds of lust. And because of all your own experience, and all your past lovers, I selfishly wanted to protect my heart. I never thought for one moment that you might feel anything for me other than what individuals feel for their food, so if I could convince myself that what we were doing was meaningless, it would hurt less when the truth I perceived came out. But then you got so upset by it, and in turn your reaction angered me because I couldn’t understand you, because I’d convinced myself that I was but another casualty of your nature. I was wrong. And I’m sorry. It was never meaningless for me. Nothing that’s transpired between us has been without meaning.”

Sebastian’s hands stroked along Ciel’s spine as he listened to his lover’s explanation, understood and came to realization he’d not considered previously. He had not thought that the smallest of insecurities he’d assumed could hold such weight in his butterfly’s heart and he was ashamed to have thought them inconsequential. 

He held the young man closer still and pressed his lips beneath Ciel’s ear in apology before he found words to reply, whispering them like secrets into the fine webbed strands of his lover’s hair, “It seems a mutual misunderstanding, a product of our opposing existences. It is true that I had my own perceptions of mortality and it is also true that I believed you to fit within that group. I didn’t and don’t believe you to be weak, but neither can I disregard that you are indeed only human. I do not mean that as insult precious, but it is a fact that cannot be ignored. My fears stem mostly from that. You are mortal, capable of the fickle trappings of your humanity and I admit that I made assumptions based on my perceptions as you did about my nature and motivations. Neither of us could have predicted that this would be our outcome sweetling and there are no proper guidelines or tutorials for a love like this. We are making our own rules as our bond grows and changes. In future, we’ll know better for our mistakes. For all your mortality, you are not lesser in my eyes or in my love, but equal and cherished beyond what forms were born unto us. It was never my intention to cheapen your existence as you are most precious to me. I will do better to be sure you don’t doubt your worth again. Am I again forgiven my ignorance?”

Ciel bowed his head, exposing his neck and reveling in the warmth of breath that dampened his skin. He shivered and sighed and brought the demon’s hands to his lips, nipping and kissing the tips of his fingers as he spoke into them, “You were forgiven before you asked. But since you did, I’ll gladly forgive you again.” He turned, touched his hand to the side of his mate’s face, drew his body up close against him, and encircled him with his arms. The tension melted from his features, but did not dissolve his desire. He pulled Sebastian’s face down to his own, a flush dancing across his cheeks as he requested absolution for his part in their quarrel, mouth softly ghosting the demon’s lips as he skillfully loosened the necktie, letting it fall to the pristine floor.

Sebastian was only too happy to oblige his mate, feeling the truth in Ciel’s words through their bond as much as hearing them from his soft lips. He was forgiven, had been and the anger that had been there was faded and forgotten as quickly as if had come. His wings unfurled beneath the fluttering of Ciel’s fingers and his tail slithered forth from the waistband of his trousers as his own hands moved of their own accord to take over unfastening the pearled buttons of his mate’s shirt, gliding underneath to caress, knead and brand the milky flesh revealed to him. He pressed his lips to Ciel’s with a thick sigh and heady purr of relief and promise, fingers already working at the young man’s drawers. And his mouth lingered only heartbeats before moving downwards, mapping the way along Ciel’s jaw, his throat, his collar, his chest and lower still as Sebastian sank to the floor beneath. How fitting for penance and worship to find himself upon his knees at his lover’s feet, where prayer and praise and sweet absolution waited between his creamy thighs. Sebastian could scarcely remember a time when he had been so eagerly pious. He was quickly finding that as terribly painful as their quarrels were, the making up afterwards was more than worth the grief.

“N-no, Sebastian. You don't have to… What if this _offends_ someone?” Ciel asked only out of politeness, not _really_ caring as his heart thrummed and he felt himself hardening under his lover’s gently devoted attentions. He, in return was anything but gentle, having ripped the topmost button of his lover’s shirt, yanked and pulled at his tailcoat before ordering it off altogether. He was torn between his own selfish pleasure and gratification, infatuated with the feel of Sebastian’s lips on him, the feeling of belonging that only this kind of possessive claim bestirred and wanting to delight and satisfy his demon and pull from him the carnal, sinfully lascivious sounds he made as his inhuman body was worshipped.

“No need to be shy sweetling. This is not something that could be conceived as offensive regardless how some might find it distasteful and it would be too naive to believe that we’re the only ones that are unable to abstain from such activities while within these walls. Would it shock you to know that some of these beings only mate while in places like this where they can not devour one another as they would any other place?” Sebastian replied as undeterred, his hands crept beneath the fabric of Ciel’s bottoms, pushing them down to release the aching and flushed arousal trapped within. He stared at it for a long second before he looked up at his mate through the heavy veil of his lashes and leaned forward to flicker his tongue over its glistening tip with a wicked grin upon his lips.

Ciel’s eyes rolled back as he tried to suppress his hips from bucking forwards. He was already breathless and his mate had barely touched him. He reasoned that their bond, this chemistry between them was a result of the soul they shared and he could no more be deterred than the demon at this point, “I don't care how distasteful any of them think it is… Oh God, Sebastian!” He shuddered, unable to tear his gaze from the way the forked tongue pressed itself firmly against the underside of his length, slithering its way up to flick the tip teasingly, “Just tell me you’re sure Poe is safe and you can have whatever it is you want…”

“He’s in no immediate danger,” came the husky response from the demon’s lips before they closed around the head of his mate’s eager member and there was no more need for coherent words between them.

***

“They been in there quite o’ while. I reckon our lil Phantom ‘as ‘ole Sebby down on ‘is knees jus’ _beggin’_ ‘is forgiveness. ‘Ow long ya wager e’ll be makin’ up fer tha’ un, love?” Undertaker said, slanting a sly gaze at his mate, knowing and broad-humoured smile on his lips that only grew as the sounds and scent from beyond the closed door filtered out into the viewing room and attracted the attention of the other occupants. He reached out a long, pale fingered hand to brush warm, scarred fingertips ticklishly over the light flush dusting his mate's cool cheek and flooding his iridescent scales with vibrant colour, lingering a moment before ghosting through his star-dusted silver hair. So pretty was his lover when he blushed.

A tingling swept up the back of Snake’s neck, coloring the skin of the thin column and spreading beautifully like the prisms caused by sunlight over oil. Emily and Wordsworth criss-crossed around the young half-breed’s body, coiling around his torso until they reached his shoulders and each took it upon themselves to pull up his jacket collar to cover everything below his eyes to hide his pinkened flesh. He cleared his throat as his chin dipped down awkwardly and his words were muffled, “Until the young master’s soul is sated, I expect. There seemed to be a fair bit of unrest there; so many secrets.” 

He needn’t speak through his serpentine sycophants when addressing his lover, theirs was a relationship that had been born of forsaken anomaly, fed by virtue and continued to be reaped by playful ingenuity. Still, it did not stop him from shifting one foot to the other in awkward self-consciousness as his ears turned red under the opalescent locks. His small tongue peeked from his mouth to trace and savour, as the scent- a perfect blend of spicy and bittersweet, enticing and beguiling- began drawing a larger crowd. His mate seemed immune to its effect, but he could not say the same. He imposed himself into his mate’s personal space and his eyes lit and widened, arousal in their depths as he looked up into Maltheal’s brilliant green ones, “Humans make such pretty sounds when their needs are being met, don’t they?” 

“Tha’ they do m’love, but yers are prettier,” Death replied teasingly, his voice dropping an octave and taking on a huskier quality as he opened his arms to his mate, letting the hybrid slip into the folds of his long coat. He smiled as Snake’s fingers crept around his back, always hesitant at first as if he was uncertain, as if the older male might reject his touch, though he well knew it would be accepted. Undertaker reveled in the feel of those soft, skittish fingertips, hummed his approval and lifted a hand to cup the smooth, scaled jaw of his lover. Such shy creatures, serpents, and his mate was no different. Quiet and timid and fragile, misunderstood and scorned for their nature. Often thought to be as cold as their blood, but it only took a kind touch to warm them. “Does ther tryst stir ya so poppit?” he queried though he already knew the answer, a softened and adoring smile on his lips and in the honeyed forest of his eyes as he looked into the ambered gold of his precious mate's.

“Mmm… but it can’t be helped, can it?” Snake answered, voice unsteady as Keats and Oscar wound themselves so tightly, mouth to tail, around his and his mate’s bodies that the serpents could no longer breach the space between them. He rested his head upon Maltheal’s shoulder, his face turned inwards as to smell the sweet rose and bubblegum undertones that was the Oleander coming off the pale skin of his mate’s neck, inhaling deeply in distraction to try to temper the pleasured sighs that escaped his lips upon breathing out. The crowd had grown larger still, and _they_ had not shown the same restraint. The heat grew steadily degree by degree within the room and guests appearances flickered from human to otherworldly as did their needy sounds, though they remained low enough to not overtake those being made from beyond the powder room door.

From behind the wall adjacent to where they were standing they heard Asmodeus’ feral growls and Phantomhive’s wanton cries increase and sync with the sound of something being slammed up against said wall as soft black tendrils crawled and danced their way into the main room from under the door. “I reckon we should stand guard a little closer, I doubt very much that your nephew would want to be interrupted at this point, love. I would not.”

“Right ya’re on both counts poppit. But n’un can blame ‘em wit’ ‘ow long de’ve ‘ad ta wait ta be reunited. Still would be too iff’n wasn’ fer me takin’ matters inta me own ‘ands. Me brother always ‘ad a shite sense o’ humour an’ an even worse sense o’ romance. ‘E always was a bit o’ a useless git iff’n ya ask me,” Undertaker said as his hand stroked through Snake’s spider web fine silvery hair affectionately, casting his gaze around the gathered and slowly encroaching onlookers. He smirked over his mate’s shoulder and waggled a scolding finger on his unoccupied hand at them as he released his own aura, allowing for the rolling waves of his own power to flow out from his being. Not a one of them could claim immunity from his reach should he choose to put it to use and wisely backed off, heeding the warning for what it was. Immortal or not, no creature aside his twin could hope to outrun the death that he embodied. He was the great unmaker in opposition to his brother and all things great and small knew him, though only the selfish feared him. Not that he didn’t dabble in creation now and then, after all, why should Yahweh get to have all the fun? Especially when he never appreciated it properly anyways.

***

Ciel held Sebastian impossibly close as his back slammed repeatedly up against the powder room wall. The demon’s dark-scaled hands spread him as they held him up, rocking into him, hitting his prostate with expert precision and Ciel knew he'd finish without having his weeping cock so much as touched. “Cum… Cumming Sebastian…” Mismatched eyes met and held feral crimson slits as a long, drawn-out lover’s lament preceded his orgasm. “K-keep going… please...” Desperately, he clung to the demon’s horns, his nails digging into his own palms as his legs locked around Sebastian’s waist, pulling him in as surely as he drew the demon deeper into his heat, tighter and tighter until his seed spilled in short violent bursts high onto his own stomach and chest.

Sebastian held fast to his little lover, a purring growl of approval echoing in his chest as Ciel came completely undone, soiling himself with his own seed as he cried out. His powerful thrusts did not falter, obeying Ciel’s plea for him to continue while the young man quaked against him, body greedily gripping his cock and desperately milking his own release. He came with a carnal snarl, teeth sinking into Ciel’s shoulder and drawing out the sanguine sustenance that pulsed beneath the fragile flesh, his forked tongue lapping it up eagerly as his hips stuttered and bucked through his peak, filling his mate with possessive warmth. 

He licked the wound closed, being sure to clean away any excess blood that had escaped before he carefully pulled himself free of the still fluttering sheath his lover provided, being sure to keep Ciel’s near boneless body steady as he slid free. His mouth migrated from Ciel’s shoulder to his chest, lapping up the translucent and still warm threads of his mate’s essence from his sweat-sweetened skin, unwilling to waste any of the life-imbued liquid. He hummed huskily as he groomed his little lover, bathed his flesh and left his marks upon it in his wake, pleased by the intimacy that came so naturally between them now. Their bond kept shifting, changing and strengthening further with every encounter, every new understanding that they gained, made a heady cocktail of prideful possession and doting adoration swell in his own breast where his fateful heart beat a steady rhythm, timed and synced in tandem with his lover’s. 

He pulled away from Ciel’s skin reluctantly, unable to abstain from pressing affectionate kisses along his collar before he finally drew away, supporting the boy as he set him back on his feet. He tilted his head and silently watched him as Ciel caught his breath, one soot stained hand raised to brush errant locks of damp navy from his exquisitely flushed face. “So lovely are you like this sweetling,” he murmured huskily, garnet eyes catching the light and sparkling with ethereal devotion and delight.

“Hmm? Like what?” Ciel asked in a muffled voice as he moved stiffly to buckle his shoes with his dress shirt caught between his teeth. _That damned demon, of course the only outfit he would choose not to rip off his body was the one with which he’d provided the mortal._ Once he straightened again, Sebastian took the shirt from him and buttoned it up with sure and practiced fingers, while his features vacillated between demonic and human, then stilled entirely when Ciel caressed and squeezed his contracted hand, “Do you have to change? I get when we’re out in public, but you’re among your kin here, can’t you stay as you were?” As much as Sebastian’s outward human appearance had been customized to Ciel's every whim and desire, he’d come to rather enjoy the Sebastian who wasn’t held prisoner by human conventions; and if he was unabashedly honest, his mate’s true form aroused him as much due to the power it denoted. After all, his mate was practically demonic royalty.

“Unhindered… You’re filled with passion and instead of blue, you turn the most lovely shade of scarlet butterfly. It’s the most exquisite display of mating colouration I’ve ever seen and I must admit, I am quite proud that it is only me that has claimed and been claimed by you in this manner,” the demon answered, gaze crawling over the still warm flush of colour beneath the dappled marks Sebastian’s mouth had left, admiring the attractiveness. He was silent for a moment, considering Ciel’s other almost pleading inquiry. It made his pride all that much more potent for his mate to express such desire and adoration for his true form even with all its oddities. “If that is what you desire precious, I’m much obliged,” he said as he tied the tie back around Ciel’s neck, finally looking into his still half blown eyes as he tugged the knot tighter tenderly. He let his true form have the control it so desperately begged whenever he was so close to his mate, no longer trying to taper it and instead simply letting it free of his mortal guise where not only his mate, but all those present would see and remember who he was among them. He did not think that any of them would be so bold as to proposition his mate for either of their company again upon witnessing the unshackled power in his being. It also meant his mate was eager to boast it to all those around them and that made his pride all that much headier.

Ciel hummed appreciatively at Sebastian’s quick compliance to his vain desire and brushed his kiss-swollen lips against the darkened scales that covered his lover’s open hand as his long fingers caressed his cheek. The hush from beyond the powder room door didn’t quite register until they were met by a crowd, silent as death and partially shielded by Undertaker, who held Snake’s shuddering body enclosed in the comfort of his oversized jacket. Beyond them, half a dozen serpents created a barrier, hissing, rearing and threatening to strike any onlooker who dared cross the shadowy abstract line they’d drawn. 

And yet, they all stared. Each and every unearthly being. Some of them with familiar hungry expressions, some panting or moaning soundlessly, some of them hadn’t even the will to make it to the powder room, and Ciel averted his eyes embarrassed, his smaller body unconsciously taking a step behind his mate’s larger one, “What’s going on? What are they… We weren’t so obvious… You said it wouldn’t offend…”

Sebastian’s luminescent crimson gaze shifted about the room, tracing over the onlookers with a sort of disgusted disinterest, catching Undertaker’s eyes briefly before he looked back at his mate. “Side effect of the nature of my form. They didn’t need to see or hear it precious; they can smell it. And I wouldn’t call their reaction one of offense, but more accurately, desperately envious. Don’t worry butterfly, they won’t come closer without permission,” he spoke over his shoulder and watched Ciel through his lashes, a vague smugness to the words denoted by the curve to his lips.

Undertaker chuckled under his breath as he listened to the conversation taking place between the couple behind him, but didn’t voice his own thoughts on the matter. Instead he clutched his own mate tighter and leaned in to whisper against Snake’s ear so softly only the other male would be able to hear, “T’is alright now Poppit, call the lil darlings off. I’ve got ya an’ Asmodeus has th’ rest.”

Snake acquiesced, hissing and spitting at them unsteadily, his voice betraying some of the arousal still stirring at his core. The serpents obeyed immediately, sensing his urgency, slithering up his legs, coiling around his torso and draped themselves most satisfyingly onto his shoulders. The smallest of them, Donne, meandered its way up and through the long starlit hair of his lover, settling close to his ear, whispering his desire for them to seek a powder room of their own instead of attending the auction slated to start any minute. The hybrid kept his eyes downcast as his fingers groped and kneaded his mate’s sides from under the jacket, leaching Heaven’s warmth, and taking it selfishly for he and his companions. 

Ciel took the odd couple’s preoccupation as a perfect time to deflect his embarrassment and give Sebastian his orders as he pulled on his mate’s tailcoat and motioned for him to come closer, “I have a feeling that the children are being held here as a distraction from our true mission. Go nose around while I attend the auction; I doubt anyone will approach me now since they probably all perceive me as being _your property_.” An infinitesimal smile crept playfully to his lips, his breath and purred whisperings dampening the pointed shell of the demon’s ear, “And thank you for the powder room, we should fight more often…” 

Sebastian licked his lips and hummed his pleasure low in his chest as Ciel’s breathy words washed over his ear, “There’s no need to quarrel to have this precious, all you need do is ask.” He pressed a kiss beneath Ciel’s ear before he drew away again, straightening his clothing as his wings and tail shifted behind him. “Do be careful while I’m away and don’t hesitate to call for me if trouble should find you sweetling,” he said in parting before he slipped away, his aura and Undertaker’s forcing the others in the room to look away and reluctantly return to their previous business.

Undertaker smiled kindly at his mate, a soft chuckle sounding as one of his lover’s companion’s whispered the hybrid’s proposition in his ear ticklishly. He leaned into his mate, pressing his face against the side of his love’s smooth scaled neck and inhaling deeply the scent of him, kneading at his back with his hands appreciatively as he responded reluctantly, lips brushing the side of Snake’s throat as he spoke, “‘M ‘fraid that’ll ‘ave ta wait Poppit. Not ta worry though, I’ll make it up ta ya, I promise. Need ya ta keep an eye on our lil Phantom while I attend ta some other bus’ness. Will ya do tha’ fer me?”

Snake nodded while Keats and Oscar buzzed their tails and drew back their heads aggressively making an ‘S-curve’ at the request; their master held a finger up to shush them, rather annoyed since they ought to understand by now that he would always do his lover’s bidding. And as much as the request paled in comparison to what he’d originally had in mind, he trusted Maltheal to never disappoint or go back on his word, knew his mate had made an artform of delaying their pleasure, which in turn only made their encounters that much sweeter. Blown golden eyes watched his mate walk away and he was certain his own expression of longing mirrored the mortal’s as Asmodeus left. 

“This way, Phantomhive,” he prompted, inclining his head appraisingly, trying to understand his charge. His mate had explained why the demon had desired the young exorcist despite how infuriatingly ignorant the boy was. How was he incapable of sensing Asmodeus’ devotion? How, with someone of his impressive pedigree, was he unable to recognize Maltheal for whom he was or see the impossible debt he owed him for any shred of happiness he found in this life? 

Ciel gasped as the black and red serpent wrapped around his wrist and pulled him along, his step faltering as he traipsed after the lean, young man with white shorn hair. He didn't bother shaking it off as he was steadily growing accustomed to being practically manhandled by Snake’s legion of minions. Instead, he heaved a sigh and addressed the ophidiophile, “The surname thing is getting tired; you can call me Ciel, you know.”

 

“I know.” Snake replied simply, regarding the boy smugly over his shoulder, leading him through a large entrance which showcased even more interesting pieces than the main room. These walls were far less ornate, their decor much more sparse as to keep its occupants focused on the items being auctioned. Bodies filled the room to capacity and otherworldly patrons could be overheard murmuring and admiring the treasures they would soon squabble over. He knew Phantomhive could not see the front of the room, being as small as he was and was glad for it as it would likely keep him from drawing even more attention to himself or lure him into purchasing something dangerous. 

“Can’t we get any closer?” Ciel asked, looking for an opening in the crowd before him, standing on the tips of his toes and craning his neck, “I’m looking for something rather important.” 

Snake rolled his eyes, “Ah yes, the grace of a newborn angel freely given, says Wilde” who leaned in closer to the young man, flicking his tongue, wanting to sample the bouquet of his blood to see if it held the distinctively divine scent as it was rumored to possess. “And the sincere tears of a demon, says Bronte.”

Ciel gaped, momentarily baffled by how the serpents would know; it was likely they’d overheard, if and when Undertaker had spoken to his mate about it. “Yes, those… and a third,” but was interrupted before he could finish by Snake who nodded knowingly.

“And the blood,” he answered in his own voice, a tone that was at once smooth, gentle, yet almost silent. He dragged a breath through his nose in a pique of exasperation before continuing; how could the boy not know? Why was he so grossly unaware? “You won’t find the first two here.” 

Ciel perked up, interest obvious in his raised brows and slightly parted lips, “You mean…” 

Before Snake was able to form a response, a pale, soot stained hand lined in lavender vines came to rest on Ciel’s shoulder and an all too familiar lilting voice caressed Ciel’s ear as lilac weaved and coiled abruptly in the air around them, “Just couldn’t stay away could you little butterfly?”

Ciel’s gut reaction to the voice was to call for Sebastian, though given the way his heart hammered against his ribs, he figured it was an all-call for anyone within the building. His mouth went dry as he struggled to rein in his pulse, fearing that Sebastian might not react too kindly to the present situation given what he assumed had transpired in his nightmare. At best, the brothers coming face to face would probably result in one of those altercations the wards tried to prevent (possibly leading to certain death), and at the very worst, Ciel would potentially lose out on the opportunity to get his hands on the ingredient Snake had hinted to being here. 

Regardless, Ciel was denied the opportunity to respond, when he made out a low hiss beside him, not nearly as gentle or as smooth as it had been moments ago, “Get your hand off him, your Highness.”

Lucifer pulled his hand away, stepping closer to the pair with an amused smile on his lips. “Now now, is that any tone to take with family? A bastard nephew ought to have more respect,” he scolded, looking over the silver-haired half-breed with uncurbed disdain. “Besides, the boy and I have an appointment, now don’t we butterfly?” haunting lavender eyes shifted and narrowed on Ciel as Lucifer spoke, one dark brow arching in challenge.

Snake narrowed his eyes defiantly, their gold flecks having been replaced with something akin to an infrared glow as he communicated to his serpents in a language he was sure the mortal would not comprehend. In answer, Emily, Oscar, Bronte and Wordsworth followed the length of his outstretched arm and draped themselves protectively, menacingly over the young man’s shoulders. He knew it would do little to deter the reigning Prince of Hell, but they might, at the very least, remind his charge of the situation he found himself in. Not bothering to whisper to Ciel because he knew his words would be overheard regardless, he caught the boy by the chin and his eyes lit as he spoke to him, “You remember what I told you the last time, don’t you Phantomhive? It’s not wise to mix with the likes of him.”

Ciel gave Snake a curt nod, felt the weight of the serpents on his shoulders as he turned his face to take in the terrible beauty of the Fallen who stood in his midst. “We do, Lucifer, I believe you have something I’d want?” he replied, relieved his voice had been without tremor, “And you’ll understand if I want to keep Snake nearby after your visit two nights ago?”

Lucifer's smile didn't waver and he inclined his head, "I suppose I can't blame you for wanting an audience. You seem the type to enjoy being watched... Too bad, this meeting is strictly business."

Ciel nodded towards Snake, not wanting to dismiss him or to slight him especially since he’d been kind enough to put himself in harm’s way for him, but his curiosity about what Lucifer wanted to meet about was getting the better of him. He had so much to ask the raven-haired demon and he had to do it before his mate returned. He crossed his arms, forced a laugh and took comfort in the fact that as it stood, Lucifer would probably not risk hurting him directly with the wards imposed on the building. “Don’t be so sore Lucifer, just because _Sebastian_ was gifted the title of _Lust_ doesn’t mean that if you try _really really_ hard, you might one day be _someone’s_ first choice… not mine, mind you… but _someone’s_. Now what do you want, I’m rather busy.”

Lucifer's laughter rang out melodically, obviously amused by the mortal's scathing remark. The boy was trying so hard to hide his fear behind that snarky bravado. So much pride for such a little bug; Lucifer liked him more and more. What fun he'd have shattering him to pieces.

"You think I'm envious? How _adorable_. I'm envied, not the one envious dearest, surely you know that much. It should be obvious. You think I'm doing this for my kin, simply for Azzy's suffering; I'm doing it for my own pleasure. Why else would I freely gift you something so precious as I've planned," the demon said, voice lilting and husky with sultry humour. He reached out to touch the barest tips of his fingertips to Ciel's temple over his contracted eye, shaking his head and smiling wickedly as the boy involuntarily flinched away from the touch. "Come now, don't be coy, you want what I have for you don't you?"

Ciel smacked Lucifer’s hand away from his head, more out of reflex than anything. “Why the hell would I want any part in giving you pleasure, _Luci_?” Ciel responded with the infuriating pet name he’d heard the demons use between one another. “Say what you will, but envy flows out of pride, and Envy comes when Pride is wounded, _surely **you** know that much_.”

Lucifer chuckled again before he leaned forward suddenly, cupping Ciel's jaw firmly, but not quite painfully, though the threat in the touch was clear. "Sweet stupid child, I am the first, the treasured son, I _am_ sin. My siblings hold no power over me, even Asmodeus with all his clever tricks can only slow my plans, not stop them. I see he's barred me from getting in again. Such a pity really, we had such fun together. Ah, but I suppose it's just as well; I won't get distracted while I'm drawing what’s been forgotten out," he spoke right next to Ciel's ear, side eyeing the serpents that hovered, but wisely did not strike.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Lucifer,” Ciel responded, trying to keep his nonchalant façade intact and not even bothering to struggle since it would give away his anxiety. As long as the demon wasn’t putting anything _in_ he was fine with it; he had little to hide that Lucifer would actually find interesting.

"Rest is not for the wicked," Lucifer replied huskily, fingers creeping back up the side of the boy’s face to press the pads to his temple, a tendril of searing chill blooming in Ciel's head and slithering forth, drawn magnetically to the digits, "I'd much rather watch the chaos unfolding."

It wasn’t painful, but whatever Lucifer was doing to his head wasn’t pleasurable either. His hands were frozen at his side, thinking it must be Lucifer’s doing, until he felt the familiar scaled flesh of the serpents holding him in place. A flash of blinding light then darkness, a gust of fiercely hot air, scalding until it became glacial, biting then numb. Echoed sounds bouncing around in his head: cooing, giggling, laughing, moaning, crying, screaming, silence. Heart swelling and deflating, he was carefree, elated, felt longing, ecstasy, betrayal, loneliness, hopelessness. And piercing silver-blue eyes that strikingly reflected the garnet depths to which he’d become so accustomed. He gasped, unable to fill his lungs, his own mismatched eyes snapping open, completely unseeing.

Lucifer pressed his lips to where his fingers had rested, falling away beneath the press of his breath there and he smiled as he spoke against the flesh, "What a splendid story you had locked away in there. No need to thank me. Your anguish is priceless." He backed off seconds after, images still fluttering behind the milky lavender depths of his inhuman eyes. He looked as if he might say something more, but was interrupted by a heady tolling. "Too bad, it seems my brother's patience has run out. You'd be just his fancy if you weren't at least a decade too old... Well, I must be off, but do give my regards to Azzy," he bid before he turned on his heel and slipped away into the crowd as it moved towards the now open doors at the far end of the room where they were being ushered in an orderly fashion by a number of beautiful children dressed in Mediterranean linen, decorated with gold jewelry and even powdered with fine golden dust to make their pale skin sparkle and their empty gazes a glassy, doll like luminesce.

He melted away from the crowd, slipping down a corridor to make his way to the main wards on the outer walls of the building. He caught a sanguine gaze for a fleeting moment and smiled a wicked grin of satisfaction when Asmodeus’ eyes widened minutely and he inclined his head and gave a lazy salute as he turned away to continue on to his destination. He whistled pleasantly to himself as he wandered along the perimeter of the building, his nails unnaturally lengthened and serrated as they dragged across the glowing markings adorning the wall’s face. They burned and turned to ash beneath his fingertips, crumbling the wards that had been so carefully crafted to keep the event a peaceable trading ground. And he chuckled as he heard the first vague sound of screeching.

Sebastian would have liked to follow Lucifer, to confront him there and then, the righteous rage that had been simmering in him surfacing with ferocious vengeance. The other fallen had invaded his mate, misled and frightened him. Sebastian was desperate for retribution, but he was unable to disobey the creeping urgency of Ciel’s orders, snarling under his breath and clenching his fists as he whirled away from Lucifer’s arrogant dismissal, disappearing down the other end of the corridor to abide his mate’s demand. There would be a day in which they would face one another, but that day had not yet come. His consolation was that he would be stronger when it did and he would not lose the battle.

Chapter Twenty Blooper Reel

*Scene 20 “Dealbreaker” (Powder Room- New Orleans Warehouse)Take Four*

 **Sebastian _(pleading)_ :**Is that not enough? What more can I offer in penance?

 **Ciel _(deadpan)_ :** Pull down your pants. 

**Sebastian _(confused)_ :** Pardon?

 **Ciel _(still impassive)_ :** You heard me. 

_(Sebastian slowly reaches down to remove his pants, letting them droop and get caught on his thighs)_

**Ciel:** No, Sebastian. All. The. Way. Down.

_(Sebastian huffs and purses his lips, but pushes them the rest of the way down.)_

**Ciel _(appraising the goods)_ :** Now bend over the sink. 

**Sebastian _(narrowing his eyes suspiciously and bending forward, placing his hands on the countertop)_ :** Satisfied...?

 **Ciel _(coming up behind Sebastian and kicking his feet apart)_ :** No, spread ‘em. 

_(Sebastian shifts his feet apart apprehensively, tail snaking out to curl forward between his legs, hiding the crack of his ass, obviously nervous and uncertain of Ciel’s motives.)_

**Ciel _(pulls Sebastian’s tail up)_ :** Nervous, love?

 **Sebastian _(wetting his lips and fidgeting, curling his tail over his back to hover over his shoulder and glancing at Ciel in the reflection of the mirror)_ :** I’m… a little uncertain...

 **Ciel _(Spitting into his hand)_ :** Lower your gaze. 

**Sebastian _(looking down at his clenched hands and swallowing)_ :** Butterfly, I think we should talk about this...

 **Ciel _(putting a hand to Sebastian’s hip)_ :** Mm… bend your knees a bit, you’re too tall for me to get the right angle. And put your shirt in your mouth. 

**Sebastian:** Very well… _(complying with the demands, fingers clenching harder on the countertop as his teeth find purchase on the fabric of his shirt.)_

 **Ciel:** Stick your ass out a bit more…

 **Sebastian _(Screwing his eyes shut, voice muffled by his shirt as he reluctantly complies)_ :** Mpphh… Bffmy...

 **Ciel _(winds up, gives an open-handed smack to Sebastian’s right asscheek which resounds loudly in the small powder room and leaves a bright red welt upon his flesh)_ :** Will you omit information from your master in the future? 

**Sebastian _(eyes snapping open and shirt falling from his mouth in response to the wholly unexpected impact on his rear)_ :** Oh!

 **Ciel _(smacks Sebastian’s other asscheek, but with more force this time)_ :** I asked you a question, Sebastian. 

**Sebastian _(ducking his head to hide his growing smirk, shifting slightly to present his rear with sudden eagerness, tail swaying with intrigue)_ :** What was the question again?

 **Ciel _(annoyed, takes off his tie, turns on the faucet and soaks it in cold water, removing any excess before taking his position behind Sebastian again)_ :** I asked you, _(punctuating each word with a whip to his ass)_ Will. You. Omit. Information. From. Your. Master. Again? 

**Sebastian _(not even hiding the smirk anymore while arching into the snapping whips to his rear)_ :** By the parameters of our contract, I cannot tell a lie… Ergo I can’t promise I won’t. Will you punish me?

 **Ciel _(sighing heavily at the pleased expression on Sebastian’s face)_ :** If you do, I won’t punish you any longer. 

**Sebastian _(licking his lips predatorily and looking in the mirror once again)_ :** Does that mean it’s my turn to return the favour then?

 **Ciel _(pulling his pants down in one swift motion)_ :** I thought you’d never ask. 

*Scene 20 “Dealbreaker” (Powder Room Floor- New Orleans Warehouse)Take Seven*

 **Sebastian _(in his underwear and reaching one soot stained hand to brush errant locks of damp navy from Ciel’s exquisitely flushed face)_ :** So lovely are you like this sweetling.

 **Ciel _(sitting criss-cross applesauce, also in his boxer briefs across from Sebastian, staring down intently at the space between them)_ :** Hmm? Like what?

 **Sebastian _(smiling adoringly)_ :** Embroiled in friendly competition.

 **Ciel _(turning over a “4 card”)_ :** Fuck yes! _(moves his blue pawn 4 spaces and knocks over Sebastian’s red one and grins wickedly at the demon)_ Sorrrrrrrrrrry! I win! _(stands up, prances around the powder room, singing)_ I am the champion my frieeeeeeend….

 **Sebastian _(drily)_ :** You don’t appear very repentant my love…

 **Ciel _(coming up behind Sebastian who is still sitting on the ground and rubs his shoulders)_ :** Don’t be such a sore loser, Sebastian.

 **Sebastian _(shaking his head and smiling at Ciel’s antics)_ :** If you keep this up, I’m not the one that is going to be sore sweetling.

 **Ciel _(kissing Sebastian’s cheek)_ :** Now, now… we can’t solve **ALL** our problems with sex…

 **Sebastian:** Why not? I haven’t heard any complaints so far…

*Scene 20 “Dealbreaker” (Viewing Room- New Orleans Warehouse)Take Thirteen*

_(Ciel smacks Lucifer’s hand away from his head reflexively)_

**Lucifer _(wincing and looking down at his hand, pouting)_ :** You broke my nail...

 **Ciel:** Shit, sorry. Someone call _Cut!_ Lucifer and I are going to the spa. _(turns to Sebastian)_ Babe, get the keys. 

**Sebastian _(perking up)_ :** Oh? I could use a pedicure after everything.

 **Ciel:** You most definitely could, but you’re just driving us. 

**Sebastian _(frowning sulkily)_ :** I never get to go on these outings. It’s not fair…

 **Lucifer _(grinning and slinging an arm around Ciel, the both of them leading the way to the car)_ :** Don’t be a poor sport Sebby, it’s unattractive, _(he calls over one shoulder, sticking his tongue out as Sebastian scowls, grumbles and lags after them.)_

 **Ciel _(digging in his pocket, taking out a five dollar bill and handing it to Sebastian)_ :** Why don’t you go get yourself an ice cream cone across the street, you like those don’t you? There’s a good demon. 

_(Sebastian reaches to accept the bill with a huff only for it to be stolen by and child Poe.)_

**Poe _(beaming excitedly)_ :** I love ice cream! _(He grabs Sebastian’s hand and begins yanking him along while Sebastian casts a dark look back at Ciel and Lucifer)_ Hurry up old man, I want bubblegum flavour!


	22. Bidding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of this chapter: Fear the reaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo everyone! Thanks for all the comments and support! We're updating a bit early today in celebration of Canada Day! For all those Canadians like us out there, hope it's a good one! Have a drink for us, we will be! 
> 
> Once you've finished this chapter, you might be interested in reading: [ Rockabye](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11554509), it's a one-shot which explores Ciel and Sebastian's relationship before Ciel was shipped off to exorcist school. 
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Hearts Like Ours by The Naked and Famous](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqUJdcCjUIA&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=63)
> 
> Ciel~ [ A Love Like War by All Time Low](https://youtu.be/rDbVY3gCJgg)

The bidding room was tall and wide, several rows of seats were set like the pews of a church, a moderate aisle that parted them down the middle and down both side walls, guards stationed at intervals and by all the doors. Decorated children weaved and fluttered about like nymphs as they ushered the patrons inside to be seated. Taking up the far end of the room was a large stone dais, raised up three or four steps, a flat stage spread next to it where the items for bid would be displayed when the auction began.

The throne was occupied by a grossly obese man, rotund belly resting above the lazy spread of thick legs, nudity obscured by the sweat-dampened linens draped around his large waist, laced sandals on his feet. He had a large head, short dark beard and mustache on his first chin, drunken rosy cheeks that shone with sweat as did his brow and smooth bald head, where a pair of monstrous bull’s horns protruded from his temples, decorated in gold leaf and glittering gemstones.Thick gold hoops pierced his septem, ears and the nipples at his breast, heavy in his flesh and weighing the excess down most unattractively. He also wore several rings about his pudgy fingers and matching bejeweled gold bracers at his biceps and around his meaty neck, tucked and hardly visible beneath his chins. In his lap sat a toddler not much younger than and strikingly similar in appearance to the form Poe had taken, an exquisite, fair-skinned, dark-haired child with an adorable smile and chime like laughter as the fallen embodiment of Sloth tickled his naked belly and looked on with unnatural fondness as the child grappled with his fingers and giggled uncontrollably. 

Other children were also around him, some draped over his hulking shoulders and seated on the wide arms of his throne, fanning him or feeding him what appeared to be glittering cranberries from a large bowl another ethereal youngster was holding, and more still sprawled or primly arranged together inappropriately on plush cushions to either side at his feet, while others bustled about to attend other needs, wiping sweat from his wide brow and steadying his goblet when wine was demanded, running errands, ushering patrons, and positioning the items for first auction. Their voices were small, so very young and undeveloped if they had any at all and they only spoke to each other and the demon that owned them, using gestures and averting their gazes as they interacted with other beings. The child in his lap was singing a nursery rhyme about the devil, still giggling and hugging the demon’s fingers happily while Belphegor smiled a toothy, dimpled grin. How he loved his little songbirds, each one so pretty, so unique and so pure he could taste the innocence which he would consume when he deemed each one ready. The utterly untainted pureness of a child’s soul, the simple eager desire to please and receive praise that all children possessed that led them easily astray, vulnerable and prepared to sacrifice even their lives for his adoration. So beautiful… So _delicious_. There was really nothing quite like it in all the world.

The tinkling sound of false laughter filtered through the room as Ciel was blindly being pushed forward through the parting crowd. He felt Snake’s hands, one on the small of his back and the other firmly holding his shoulder. 

A higher pitch than Snake’s usual voice found the shell of the young man’s ear, “I told you not to deal with him, says Emily.” “He’s unsettled you now; and now people are willingly moving aside for you, they can smell your distress and know your mate will not be happy about it, says Oscar,” Snake leaned forward and hissed his displeasure. This child was an ignorant fool! How long until he was rejoined by his mate so that he could be rid of such a burden! 

“At least it’s getting us closer,” Ciel bit back between gritted teeth. The serpents made their resentment of his disrespect towards their master known by nipping at his arm harmlessly, undulating and tightening their cores around his shoulders. “It’s me that can’t see anything for the moment, so quit complaining.” 

Snake sighed in exasperation, nodding towards the other individuals attending the auction as they moved passed and simpered, “Donne wonders exactly how you know it’s just _for the moment_ , Phantomhive?” 

“I don’t” he spat, not wanting to think the worst. He held his hands hesitantly before himself, worried he might bump into someone, the wrong kind of someone, “Tell me what you see, Snake.”

“Perhaps you should call your m-” 

“Just tell me!” Ciel roared impatiently and heard the individuals around them shift and give him more space.

Snake abandoned speaking through his snakes, anxious to impress on Ciel the seriousness of their situation. “Children. I’m sure you can hear them. They look angelic, but there’s something distinctly not right with them. They’re too calm for what’s been done to them, for what _will_ be done to them. They look every inch preschool children, but they really aren’t. Their unnaturalness is profoundly chilling. You’re lucky you can’t see the death in their eyes, it would haunt you for the rest of your days. Satisfied, _young master_?”

Ciel stiffened and winced; _preschool children like Poe_? Was this the fate that awaited the familiar? He abruptly turned on his heel and collided with Snake, who held him steadfast against his body. Though he was blinded, he saw the images flickering behind his eyes, then was unexpectedly brought into his own mind as though he were watching the scene unfold from mere feet. A little boy, no more than four years of age dressed in his Sunday best was hiding behind a tree, pudgy little fingers grasping the bark, shaking with both exhilaration and excitement. Smiling bright blue electric eyes peeked around the corner as he edged his way along the trunk sneakily and a grin broke across Ciel’s face as he watched his younger self play hide and go seek. With his parents? No, they were a short distance away, having fallen asleep while they read in the gazebo on the man-made pond. He approached his smaller self, surprised he’d forgotten about this memory at all when he saw something, _someone_ fall at least twenty feet from the tree behind the little boy, tap his shoulder and peck his cheek. 

“Found you!” the sweet little sing-song voice said giggling and nuzzling into the little boy’s navy hair. 

“You always find me Eddie!” Younger Ciel startled before spinning around to throw his arms around the small boy. “Let’s play a different a game now!” 

“Anything you want, my little lord,” the raven-haired preschooler replied, tucking a blue Forget-Me-Not behind his friend's ear before taking his soft, petite hand in his own and leading him towards the manor. 

“You pick this time!” his former self replied, squeezing his best friend’s hand and smiling brightly. Edgar-Allan’s answering smile was just as lovely, even with the tiny pointed teeth that dug into his plump bottom lip. 

Edgar-Allan frowned as he thought, bringing a black-tipped finger to his chin and tapping it as he did, “Hm… Wanna to go play Exorcist in the basement with the pet? We can use that new blue-star diamond rosary I brought you last week!” 

The duo neared present-day Ciel as they made their way to the main house and he was surprised that his younger self barely hesitated in agreeing to such a plan despite his own aversion as a pre-teen to even approach the basement. When had that changed? “Sure, can we make him look like Daddy this time?” 

“Anything for you, my love.” 

They ran passed and Ciel made out the distinctive crimson slitted eyes of the little boy who was an exact replica of the one he’d offered the harpies. 

He gripped Snake’s clothes and looked up at the pale skin interspersed with scales, his sight finally having returned. “Poe! We need to get him out!” 

“Shhhh… says Wordsworth,” Snake replied, catching himself off-guard as he pet the top of his charge’s head gently. 

“Sebastian!” Ciel cried out as individuals turned around to look at him. How could he have forgotten Eddie? His father had insisted for years that the child had been imaginary, had forbade his son to so much as bring up his name, had been punished and severely for it. And yet...

“Oscar and Bronte are warning you to calm down, Ciel. Shhh…”

***

Sebastian slowed, melting into the shadows of the corridor he’d been investigating, following the directions his familiar had given him when very suddenly a rush of anxiety and incoherent demand came through the bond. Ciel was not in danger, but he seemed desperate and determined and without a clear order, Sebastian was still irked from having caught sight of Lucifer, but he was certain Ciel was safe, guarded by his uncle’s mate and safeguarded against any possession and with the wards that should be in place, there should be no reason for such compelling anxiousness from the young man and it left him confused. It would be inconvenient to leave where he was now to return to Ciel’s side, would probably, in fact, infuriate the young man since he had not yet completed his other orders, but he couldn’t very well ignore his mate’s call. Instead, he tried something different; he tried communicating in return through the bond, impressing his own questioning confusion and concerned comfort into the link, the message clear though there were no words to accompany it, _Breathe my love… Tell me what you need..._

Ciel loosened his grip on Snake and held his head in his hands instead, shaking it, hoping it would dislodge something within, lessen the weight of the burden Lucifer had put there. His mind felt incredibly full, fit to burst with the flood of what he could only think of as inaccessible memories, and now Sebastian was in his head on top of that. But he did as his mate told him, took a deep breath, pulled it in through his nose and held it in his chest as he counted to ten before releasing it again. When it didn’t work, he crooned Sebastian’s melody to himself through pressed lips, recalling only then that his lover’s voice in his head wasn’t something new; how often had he been sung to in this way recently… and while growing up? This helped calm him just enough to make his request of the demon, _Poe… Just get Poe and we’ll leave. Do it. Do it now…_

Sebastian growled under his breath, but sent back his affirmation, unable to refuse the command that compelled him to obey and even without that lurching sway of their contract, he knew, he would deny Ciel nothing. Even so, this was stealing… And stealing from Belphegor, the embodiment of Sloth never ended well. Belphegor acquired pretty little _birds_ like he acquired mass and he was not one for sharing. Closely related to Gluttony and Greed, he was not generous by nature, but unlike his closest siblings, he kept more minions, slaves and pets than either of them, preferring to be waited on hand and foot and have his battles fought for him rather than fight them himself. 

He had to be careful, could not be careless as he moved towards the end of the hall and through the last door on the left, down another set of stairs to a room where all the offered children were being kept. There were at least fifty of them ranging in age from two or three years, all the way up to perhaps nine or ten at the oldest, cleansed and dressed in billowy linens, dusted with gold and silver and bronze to complement their pallors, held in a lavishly gilded golden birdcage lined with silk sheathed down pillows and a swing on which Poe sat swaying and humming hung from the barred arc of the ceiling. The little boy smiled brightly and waved at him as soon as he stepped towards the cage door to examine the lock.

Ciel fell to his knees from where he stood in proximity to Snake, who hadn’t had the time to catch him. As his knees hit the marble floor, he found himself inside a cage no taller than three feet, which didn’t seem to matter since his head didn’t reach its ceiling. He clutched the bars, watching as six tall figures talked among themselves and his gaze travelled from the men to his hands, which were much smaller than they’d been a minute ago; they were scratched, bruised and dirtied, his fingernails had been chewed, were broken, bloody and brittle as was much of the rest of him. He backed away from the bars only to fall back onto his bottom, having tripped over somebody that was sprawled on the floor behind him; no, not _somebody_ , but rather some _body_ , a corpse. 

Without his consent, tears streaked his face and only when his pitiful, feeble sobs registered in his ears did he realize he was no longer an eighteen year old man, but a child no older than three, as were the rest of the individuals in the cage with him. Nearly a dozen of them were sleeping, (or at least this is what his toddler mind had conjured), while three others fought over a scrap of food one of the tall figures had thrown in the cage as entertainment. Ciel’s stomach growled at the sight of it; when had he last eaten? Probably when he’d received the bruises and scratches; regardless, the stench of death that clung to the caged individuals helped temper his famine. 

“The father should have known better than to refuse the Vatican,” one of the figures added as the rest nodded solemnly in agreement. 

“We _did_ warn him...”

“Imagine, _a Phantomhive_ leaving his legacy… he’s been the first among his blood to push back, to want out and for what?” 

“He _knew_ the consequences. If he chose not to fulfil his role, we would take his heir to replace him and mold to our liking.” 

One of them snorted and doubled over laughing, “And then he tried to hide them...” The other men joined him in mocking his father. “We may not be in possession of such a powerful tool, but we have many eyes and many ears the world over…” 

He wiped his tears with the back of his hand then curled up against the bars in the far corner, holding his stomach, willing it to keep quiet so he didn’t draw any more attention to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to find sleep, until he heard someone approaching . He squeezed his eyes tighter, not wanting to see who it was, maybe one of the other boys to hit him again; it wouldn’t be one of the adults, the movements were too small, too delicate.

Where was his Daddy? Why hadn’t he been there to stop those bad men from taking him? They hadn’t taken his Mommy, they’d just hit her over the head and left her bleeding on the ground. Renewed sobs broke through his lips and a tender, reverent touch found the top of his head. 

He flinched and opened an eye and was met with soft garnet ones; when he was sure no threat lay in their depths, he looked up from under his lashes at a boy roughly his age, one he didn’t recognize, one he was sure hadn’t been with them in the cage moments ago. Beyond the cage, the six men lay sprawled on the floor in a puddle of darkened matter. The newcomer got to his knees in front of him and offered him the morsel of food the other boys had been fighting over, went as far as to feed it to him, then kissed his forehead when Ciel had done chewing. He was pulled into a tight embrace, then coaxed into resting his head onto the raven-haired boy’s lap and didn’t put up a fight when he felt small fingers threading through his hair and a soft, haunting melody made its way to his ears then inside his head. The little boy’s head bowed and whispered to him, his words tickling his face as Ciel’s hair moved with the warm breath, “Your Daddy is coming with the pet. You won’t be here long, my love. Sleep now, I’ll watch over you.” 

“Who are you?” Ciel mouthed, exhaustion taking over; when had he slept last? 

“Edgar-Allan.”

As he drifted to sleep, Ciel came to, Snake’s hands slapping his face gently. 

“Wake up! Goethe says you can’t do this here, Phantomhive, pull yourself together. What would your mate say?” Snake chided, extending his light aura some three feet to keep the other darker attendees a fair distance away from he and his charge. 

“He sure as fuck wouldn't be smacking my face!” Ciel replied haughtily, getting back to his feet and putting an arm’s width between he and the serpent-clad young man. He knew without a doubt that his heightened anxiety would be felt by his mate and so he issued the command without being prompted, _Sebastian, get **all** the children out of there. Now. We’re leaving._

***

Sebastian’s eyes flashed and narrowed with irritation as Ciel’s orders came through loud and demanding with no room for argument. He was committing high larceny for fuck’s sake and they were going to make a grand exit right in the middle of Belphegor’s auction?! His brother was unpleasant enough on most days, Sebastian was not at all keen to see what he would be like when he caught up to them. He had no doubt that he could indeed devour his brother, evenly matched one to one, but not with the relative army Belphegor kept, especially not while Ciel would need protecting; it would not be possible. Not without allies at any rate.

But he did not argue, the urgency in the command forcing him to work more quickly than he would have preferred and with a snarl, he struck out at the lock. It shattered under the impact of his taloned lashing and he wasted no time in pulling the door open, grateful for small miracles as he found the hinges to be well oiled and silent. He looked to Poe and the little boy straightened and became grim-faced with determination. The one thing that he and his familiar could wholeheartedly agree on was that Ciel was of utmost importance and his orders were absolute. Neither was willing to lose him. Poe grabbed the hands of some of the children, tucking some in pockets of his linen apparel and curling the others at the back of the cloth, attaching as many of them as possible to him as he whispered in childlike tones to coax them from the cage. Sebastian brought up the rear, scooping up the slowest of the group, four of them that were doll like beneath his hold, and herding the others after his familiar.

It was perhaps only breaths later when the shrieks of Harpies reached him and abruptly cut off seconds after. And he knew what Lucifer’s smug grin had been for; the wards had no doubt crumbled under his elder brother’s fingertips. At least it meant he would be able to defend himself and his mate proper, and the sound of the Harpies finding their ends by an as of yet unknown ally was something for which he could be almost grateful. Though this chaos at its root was by Lucifer’s own machinations just for his own bloody amusement, so his gratitude was short lived and unacknowledged. Sebastian growled and a few of the children gave a start and whimpered in response to the threatening sound. Poe cooed in assurance from ahead and Sebastian fell quiet again, hearing the whisper of steps and wings and knew they needed to move quicker. Again the sounds were abruptly ended and he sighed with some relief, though suspicion was quick to quell it. They were still being followed, but by something much more powerful than he and perhaps even his eldest brother could boast. Sebastian herded the children faster, quickly approaching the doors to the auction room, his mate and their hopeful escape.

***

Belphegor’s monstrous head lowered, jowls quivering as one of the children that fluttered around him came bustling through the others and tiptoed to whisper into his ear. He spit a vile snarl out into the room, slamming his meaty fist against the arm of his plush-cushioned stone dais, the room quaking under its impact. His cornflower blue eyes glowed, squinted and slitted around the room and he sniffed at the air loudly, moving the toddler from his lap to the arms of one of the older children with an unexpected gentleness. He did not like to break his precious little songbirds before they became too old for his tastes, and so was tender and careful as he handled them before a number of them came forward to assist him to his feet and his strikingly blue gaze met an equally lovely pair of mismatched blue-violet eyes from across the room and he lifted a gold and jewel adorned hand to point one sausaged finger in Ciel’s direction, bellowing accusingly in a thick and raspy tone, “Thief!” just before the doors several feet back from where Ciel and Snake were flew open to reveal Sebastian standing his ground defiantly, shielding the brood of children behind his stretched wings while Poe held them closely and tried to coax them along the wall towards the other set of doors adjacent the one they’d entered through.

Ciel turned on the spot, took in the sight of his mate and the demon's familiar and his heart swelled with pride before his eyes bulged almost comically at just how _many_ children the pair had amassed. He'd known there was a fair number of them, he just hadn't anticipated quite so many. 

He broke away from Snake to join them, unsure what they were supposed to do now; he hadn't thought his command through and he flushed, embarrassed by his gaffe as he met his mate among the chaos and shrieking that had no doubt resulted from his ill-conceived plan.

An apology was not what the demon would want to hear, though he might want to bask in his contrition later on; and so at a loss for what to do, he deferred to Sebastian. “What now?”

Sebastian’s gaze flickered swiftly around the room. The sudden bellow from the titanic form of his younger brother had set off a sudden reaction in all the present guests. There was a delayed moment of still silence before action, but as if a switch had been flipped and with suddenly clarity, it was realized the wards were broken. Abruptly there were a number of beings engaged in feudal battles mired in centuries of malice, some others trying to escape as well, flinging open the doors they needed to get to, and fleeing while guards from outside tried to push their way in to protect their master. Others still, hoping to win favour with Sloth, were rallying to attack the little group. And Belphegor was not idle himself. Recognition swam in the too blue depths of his beady gaze, enraged and locked on Sebastian from across the great hall. He was moving, his hulking mass lumbering down the handful of steps from the dais, little children at his sides, stumbling along, attempting to steady him while guards flanked him to either side and charged at anything in their path. There was little time.

He looked back to his mate, reaching out to touch his cheek briefly as he finally responded, “Take them and go precious, you must not remain for this battle. I’ll hold them off.” He thumbed over the smooth curve of his mate’s cheek, the motion tender and out of place in the chaos around them. There was a hiss and a screech from Poe as the little boy clawed and kicked away another toad-like familiar that had attempted to pin him to the wall, succeeding as he was much stronger given to whom he belonged. But the other familiar regained its footing soon after and lunged again, and Poe met its assault head on, wicked claws and teeth that had been hidden beneath his guise before, now unmistakeable as they viciously tore into the flesh of his kin.

Ciel was torn, his feverish over-bright eyes betraying his desperation to both stay by his love’s side and to go to Poe, barely able to watch the familiar being repeatedly attacked, especially in the childlike form he’d taken from his past. He saw the panic in Sebastian’s stance, in how he balled his fists at his sides, cracking his fingers one at a time then narrowed his gaze on the oncoming monstrosity that ambled slowly towards them, proceeded by a number of other creatures. It was only when he took Sebastian’s face in his hands to hold his lover’s attention that he made out the bloodlust and hunger in his crimson depths. “I can’t just leave you! Come with us, you don’t _have_ to fight!” Ciel plead with the demon.

Sebastian gave a singular shake of his head, pulling away from Ciel’s grip, “That is not an option my love. If I should flee, they will only give chase, better to face them here while you find your way to safety with the children. I will come back to you when it’s done as I always have,” he promised, looking away again, wings shifting, stiff and partially spread to shield as much of his mate as possible as he gauged how much time he had before he could not linger any longer. Belphegor was slow, but his minions were not as such and once they cleared the way, it would not take but seconds for them to be on top of the little group. 

“I must go sweetling, be safe,” he said, half turning to leave before he abruptly turned back and pressed a feverish and desperate kiss to Ciel’s lips, stealing the young man’s breath, just in case he could not keep his promise. He could not bare the thought of never feeling the press of those lips again. Ciel must have sensed the urgency, felt the foreboding in the kiss for his hands fisted in the front of Sebastian’s clothing, white-knuckled and the fallen had to pry them off gently as he pulled away again. He looked to Snake, their gazes meeting as Sebastian spoke, “Take care of him,” and the hybrid responded with a subtle nod before Sebastian took off into the fray, taloned fingers lashing out and tearing away flesh in sprays of blood and cartilage, unseeing and unwavering as he waded through the lesser minions towards his brother. There were so many of them… 

For every one he devoured or eviscerated, another ten seemed to take its place. His own flesh ached as it was split under counterattacks from his kin, thick rivulets of his own blood slicking his skin and staining his apparel, but he did not stop or slow, could not or he would surely be overwhelmed. He snarled as his wing was torn, the fine bones and sinew already knitting themselves back together to maintain his advantage of flight. But even as it healed, the other was attacked viciously and torn under the onslaught. Bastards!

There was a moment as he was bowled into by several more of his aggressors, even amidst fighting them as ferociously as they attacked him, where he was nearly certain he would be overtaken. The sheer number and weight of them seriously impeding his movements and range of attack, strategically cutting off his ability to triumph and he felt the lurch of guilt for having lied to his mate, for having broken the promise he’d desperately intended to keep. 

He closed his eyes, perhaps only for a moment, but in that singular span, there was a sudden aura that clashed with the clambering of the other beings, thrust them back as surely as the divine creator’s would. But it was not Yahweh that stayed them, that cut them down from overhead on silver wings with the legendary scythe of ages. Sebastian could have laughed then. The one who’d been following them, who’d left his mate to guard his own, the great destroyer was his unexpected ally. It was rare that death would intervene in such a matter and Sebastian could not hope to determine to what ends his uncle lent his allegiance, but he did not have the time to question it, grateful for the assistance. 

***

Ciel touched his lips where Sebastian’s bruising kiss had lingered too short a time and made to follow his mate into the demonic riot when he felt strong arms restrain him from doing so.

“You’ll eventually have to put your faith in your mate, says Wordsworth,” Snake hissed in the young man’s ear as the boy continued to struggle; he tightened his hold further with Oscar and Emily’s assistance. 

Ciel’s eyes followed Sebastian’s progress, wincing as he took notice of the gore that splattered the walls in every shade of red imaginable. He both thanked and cursed his short stature, relieved he couldn’t see anything else but dying to know how Sebastian was faring amidst an army of vicious creatures, the likes of which he’d never seen. His mate had done a fine job at luring the majority of his brother’s stronger allies away from he and the children, but it hadn’t stopped the minor demons from pursuing easy prey.

They steadily approached the familiar, the hybrid and the mortal, their malicious stare fixating on the last, trying to determine the path of least resistance either to gain access to himself or to the flock of children. He took a dragging step back, then another until his back hit the wall and a blur of jet black hair came to stand before him. 

“Mistress, take the children and go,” Poe’s little form commanded Ciel as his deadly talons dug into a demon’s abdominal cavity whose body had suffered so many lacerations to its throat that the neck barely hung on. Around him, children cried and screamed, some hid their faces against the mortal’s clothes while others recoiled and shrunk to the floor unable to process the ghastly sight. “Please Ciel, before you get hurt…”

Snake looked over his shoulder, the vertical pupil of his glowing yellow eyes widening fractionally to assess any peripheral threat. Angered by Phantomhive’s inaction and absolute uselessness, he closed the gap between them, hoping to spur the mortal into action, any action, “Your mate is risking his life, says Emily, and all you can do is cower against the wall! Bronte wonders why Asmodeus would even bother coming back to the likes of you!”

“He’ll be back!” Ciel shouted, shaking his head in denial, “He promised.” 

“That promise was not his to make, says Donne! He does not get to decide the outcome of this battle, says Keats,” Snake called out with difficulty as his fangs elongated passed his chin. He knew with certainty that his own life would be spared, knew his mate would not abandon him in such a place, though he could not say the same for Phantomhive and Asmodeus.

His hand struck out in one swift movement, pulling the nearest demon in and twisting around the fiend, letting his fangs tear through the throat with little effort, like a Damascus sword through silk. He pushed the demon aside, spitting the darkened fluid onto the floor, scrutinizing the mortal following his victim’s progression from convulsion to blistering and finally necrosis. He impatiently snapped his fingers in the boy’s face twice, and cleared his throat, “Hey! What kind of Phantomhive are you? Your father would have never just stood there! Help me!” 

Ciel watched as demon after demon, Poe and Snake took down whatever threat came at them. What was he supposed to do against such foes? His guardian was positively lethal; he moved with lightning speed and accuracy, and when his victims didn’t fall prey to his venom, he drew them in, letting his white leathery wings wrap around them, constricting, cracking, splitting and snapping until the victim fell limply to the floor. “What the hell do you want me to do?” Snake was right, his father would not have stood there; Vincent would have had the good sense to not have attended such an event in the first place. 

In the moment it took for him to respond, Poe was shot thirty feet from them over a table and disappeared completely from sight. He did not reemerge. Whatever had caused the familiar’s sudden flight across the room had moved onto their next target, a group of some dozen two-year-olds huddled together, eyes pinched shut and sobbing. Instinctively, Ciel rushed over, running headlong into the taut body of a demon in its true form, easily exceeding eight feet. He bounced back some paces and shuddered; this class of demon was what he’d feared becoming: loathsome, grotesque, starving, and... strong. So strong. The demon wrapped his fingers around his throat, its grip bruising and brutal, lifting him bodily from the floor and bringing his face close to his mouth as though hoping to replicate the passionate kiss he’d no doubt witnessed between Ciel and his mate just moments ago. Had it only been moments ago? Or had their night of lovemaking only been moments ago? And what of their meeting at the cage? No, they had met even before that. Long before that. 

He tore and savagely clawed at the demon’s hand that meant to strangle him, desperately seeking his mate from this altitude. He heard the feral growl from across the room and in that instant, locked eyes onto his lover’s before his own began rolling back and blinked tears in his lashes. 

“Phantomhive! Are you divine or aren’t you? Use your blood for the love of Ĕlāhā!” Ciel heard Snake challenge, his serpent’s tail resplendent in weakly keeled scales, wrapping around several adversaries at once as he sank his fangs into into them one at a time. 

Ciel’s hands fell to his sides, numbness coursing through his limbs as the demon locked his lips onto his cold, blueing ones. A weak shaking hand managed to rise long enough to scrape his wrist against the the tip of the demon’s protruding sharpened little horn set directly below his ear and let it fall again, feeling the wetness drip from his fingertips. In that moment, the room fell temporarily silent, or it might simply have seemed that way as he came closer to unconsciousness. 

He felt the pulling and sucking as the demon breathed him in, as though he was trying to unhinge something from deep within. Its forked tongue slithered across his own, further and further into his mouth, tickling and smoothing against his palate like a finger crooking to summon something.

Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up a third time, striking the demon squarely on the forehead with an audible slapping sound as his lips moved of their own accord, spilling unknown silent words with profundity. The demon immediately pulled away, snapped its head back, screaming silently, mouth agape with darkened curls of wispy smoke ascending before blue flames raged from its extremities. 

Ciel fell, then gasped for breath on hands and knees, his soiled hand pulsing in pain. He scarcely saw the demon who’d tried to devour him be entirely consumed by the blaze before he was apprehended from behind. This time he did not hesitate, but twisted in the tight grasp until he was straddled by one intending to feast on his soul as the last one had. Another hand to the forehead and more words he’d never learned, a lost language, more powerful than the aramaic he’d been taught. In this instance, the demon was not afforded the luxury of a silent agonizing scream, it simply ignited in the time it took Ciel to blink. 

“Finally!” Snake cursed as he watched Phantomhive struggle to his feet and start ushering the children to the nearby door, instructing them. Some of his demonic kin continued rushing the boy, though only those who hadn’t witnessed his Almighty power and they met the same fate as their comrades.

As he choked yet another of his father’s abominations, he watched Ciel barre the doors from the inside. What the hell was he doing locking himself in for? Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to go after his mate. He shook off two more demons and made to go after Phantomhive when he realized the boy was running in the opposite direction Asmodeus had gone. His relief only lasted a moment when Ciel headed for a group of demons converging at the other end of the room, just beyond a display table. He gave chase, wanted to stop the cocky bastard when he felt the iridescent scales of his tail shed in the slippery, slimy hands of the lamprey-mouthed siren. It was only after he’d dealt with her that he saw the boy standing amidst a circle of scorching indigo flames, and walked through them unharmed, cradling the small raven-haired familiar adoringly.

Ciel hefted Poe’s unconscious body in his arms, holding him close to his chest and rocking him as he made for the exit again, nodding to his guardian as Snake blew the double doors open for them. “We need to go, I left the kids alone out there.” 

“Probably the first sensible thing you’ve ever said, says Donne,” he answered in a whisper, pushing Ciel forward as they meandered through the hundred or so corpses that had sought to harm the boy on his watch.

***

Sebastian had felt the wash of panic from his mate through their bond, had fought wildly to release himself from the thick throng of lesser beings that surrounded him in order to go to Ciel, compelled by both the contract and his love for the young mortal to shield him from harm. Moments that he swore spanned lifetimes expanded and contracted abruptly as a wave of power that was both warm and familiar rolled through the bond and spread inside him, giving him the extra boost he needed to rid himself of the vermin flanking him on all sides. Not all hope was lost, his mate had managed to fend for himself, the divinity that had always been in him had not failed him then and neither did it fail the fallen.

 

He caught only the barest glimpse of his mate carrying the prone form of his familiar through flames that flickered cool opalescent blue on the felled unholy creatures at his feet and he looked every bit the legacy of his name. And then Sebastian looked away and knew he was safe only through the liquid calm that had settled in their bond as the ground began to quake under his feet, shuddering beneath the thundering steps of his brother’s approach. 

His uncle was across the room, still ensconced in battle, the expression on his face was exhilarated and what Sebastian could only describe as gleeful, the wide toothy grin and glowing venomous green-gold of his eyes gave the impression that Undertaker was enjoying himself. For that Sebastian was grateful as the older being was taking on the brunt of the forces now and Sebastian could finally square off with his brother. His injuries knit themselves together even as he moved to greet Belphegor head on.

He was glad then that Ciel was not present to witness what carnage he waged. The children were the first to charge, convinced by the demon that they belonged to, that they must defend him with their lives and so they did. Sebastian could not save them and he could not spare the guilt or remorse for wiping their existence; it was all the mercy he could muster to end them swiftly. Power coursed through him, thick and molten in his blood and when there were no more bodies to shield him, Belphegor became the target for his pent up bloodlust, his rage, his regret and his anguish. He took out his retribution in the flesh of his kin, brutally lashing out at the other sin for all that he and their other siblings had caused his mate grief, each bloodied strike a testament to his vengeance. 

But the hulking form of Sloth only laughed raspily, his monstrous belly quaking with mirth, Sebastian’s claws, though powerful, did not mince the thick flesh as easily as others and could not reveal or grasp at the essence at Belphegor’s core beyond the shield of his excess. It only served to enrage him further and in turn he lashed out again. Upright, he would not be able to reach any of the soft spots within his brother’s form and the best strategy would be to lay him flat out on the floor where he’d be most vulnerable. But in order to succeed with such a strategy, he would have to forfeit the advantage of his speed and get much closer where Sloth would be able to reach him. If he was unlucky, his brother would catch hold of him and the rarely exploited strength possessed by the other fallen would render his own flesh from bone. 

He moved with poise and precision, swiftly lunging in and attempting to sweep the mountainous demon’s legs out from under him. It was not enough of a blow to topple him and Belphegor only staggered before he steadied himself. Sebastian at least had the chance to retreat after his first attempt. He would only have so many and his next one would be more risky. He crouched low again, pupils contracted to tiny slits in the liquid sanguine of his eyes and unwavering on his opponent as he prepared for another assault. His wings propelled him forward with a hushed gust of air and he bowled into Belphegor’s massive belly. He only stumbled back a step from the impact, obviously having expected something like it and Sebastian realized too late that it had been a trap. There was an awful tearing and a loud cracking snap as his left wing was crushed and broken in his brother’s grip; he snarled and bore his teeth as searing pain lanced through his, cursing the other demon in tongues too old to be remembered.

Belphegor’s chins wobbled as he threw back his head and roared his laughter, amused by his apparent victory. “Imagine that… The traitor will be my dinner for his thievery. It must be true what they say, _rewards come to those who wait_. It’s a shame your little mate escaped; he’d have made a fine dessert, but I’m sure the others will catch up to him. He’ll soon join you,” he paused, icy blue eyes squinting wetly at Sebastian’s struggling form, “You’re so quiet big brother, don’t you have anything left to say? I could be generous. Why don’t you beg me like you did Lucifer?”

Sebastian hissed, clawing at the grip around his throat and beating his unbroken wing furiously, trying to dislodge himself from Belphegor’s unrelenting grasp. He was so close. This could not be where he ended; he’d not yet had enough time with Ciel, had not yet voiced the words though they both knew he loved him and he had promised to return to him. His efforts proved fruitless as his brother taunted him. He might have responded to the other male differently had the next sequence of events not taken place. The was a shift in the aura, a silver blur from his peripheral and a familiar voice from some feet behind him. 

“Oi! Catch boyo!” it was the only warning he received and his left hand shot out though he could not see his uncle. Even so, the frigid smoothness of the moonstone handle of the scythe of ages found purchase in his palm and he did not hesitate to swing the curved opalescent blade up in a reverse arc. It split layers of flesh, muscle, organ and sinew, parted Belphegor’s enormous belly in a yawning red grin with not but a whisper of sound, like a sated exhale. 

“You talk too much,” came Sebastian’s low, husky and feral tone, finally answering his brother’s taunting as he drew the blade back dispassionately.

The hulking form jerked, blue eyes wide and tearing as a strangled choke came from Sloth’s mouth and his grip spasmed a moment before relaxing as he swayed. Sebastian crumpled to his knees as his brother fell back with a thunderous thud. Sebastian’s body mended unheeded and he let go of the scythe as it burned his hand, viciously voicing its desire to be returned to its rightful master and so he did not hesitate to release it. It did not clatter to the stone, but he did not notice its departure or the subsequent steps of the being it belonged to approaching as he scrambled to the steaming mass of Belphegor’s body, tearing into the open wound in search of the essence that was hidden there before it could escape. He had to swallow a number of times in order to devour it in its entirety and he grimaced at the sickly sweet taste of it on his pallet, but did not pause or slow his ministrations.

He felt disgustingly full when he finally finished and accepted the hand up from his uncle when it was offered, trading no words between them; there was no need when their silences spoke volumes. He could already feel the power seeping into him as he digested the essence he’d devoured, but still high on the bloodlust and triumph of the battle that he did not yet feel the other effects that came with the ingestion of another mortal sin.

Sebastian walked next to Death without sound though Undertaker whistled contentedly to himself, obviously pleased with the outcome and moreso now that he was on his way to reunite with his mate. He kept pace with his nephew as equals as they moved towards the drawing magnetism of their bonded lovers and he could not keep the smile from his face. His plan was progressing just splendidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21 Blooper Reel
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *Scene Twenty-One “Bidding” (Everything that went wrong)*  
>  **  
> **  
> The following is a comprehensive list of accidents, damages and mishaps that took place during the filming of Scene Twenty-One*  
>   
>  _* Belphegor’s fat suit continuously fell off_  
>   
>   
>  _*Belphegor had to be hospitalized for two days for heat stroke (due to the weight of the fat suit)_  
>   
>     
>  _* Due to his inability to tell left from right, several takes were needed for Snake to properly guide a “blind” Ciel to the forefront of the room_  
>   
>     
>  _* Child services consistently kept showing up throughout the shooting_  
>   
>     
>  _* Poe kept forgetting his lines, and replaced them with childish pick-up lines instead (e.g.: Let’s make like a tree and leave)_  
>   
>     
>  _* Upon Sebastian asking Ciel what he needed through bond communication, the cast and crew needed to leave immediately, delaying filming for several hours._  
>   
>     
>  _* One too many snarky exchanges between Sebastian and Poe which escalated to such graphic extents that it is illegal to repeat them for public consumption (most of which revolve around Sebastian being the one to having to come fetch the familiar)_  
>   
>     
>  _* Poe keeps making inappropriate jokes in the cage during Ciel’s memory, and the “corpses” of children kept laughing and could not remain still. It took three weeks to get usable material, most of which was brilliantly edited by William T. Spears_  
>   
>     
>  _* A slap fight between Snake and Ciel which resulted in Snake’s serpents administering a Full-Nelson to Ciel_  
>   
>     
>  _* It took Sebastian twelve takes to use the “F” word since he kept reverting to curses in dead languages_  
>   
>     
>  _* Sebastian and the director had creative differences as to how to discipline and lead the horde of children_  
>   
>     
>  _* Ciel “has an asthma attack” and needs mouth to mouth multiple times (from Sebastian during their parting kiss)_  
>  _* Sebastian has more words with Poe, when the familiar offers to give mouth to mouth to Ciel for him_  
>   
>  _* Sebastian had an allergic reaction to the fake blood causing a rash of painful red bumps and severe itching (Lucifer had a suspicious-looking container of demonic poison ivy from hell on his person)_  
>   
>  _* Poe and the toad-familiar become immersed in a playful game of leapfrog instead of fighting_  
>   
>  _* Poe kept shouting “Weeeeeee!” as he was tossed across the room, and so multiple takes were needed_  
>   
>  _* Overnight there was a break-in of fangirls and all props were stolen. This delayed shooting for a week._  
>   
>  _* Ciel actually has an asthma attack and Snake has to get Emily to slither to his car and back with his puffer_  
>  _* Sebastian keeps killing the demons cast as the one responsible for trying to suck out Ciel’s soul. Lucifer calls in a favour, gets Liam Hemsworth to come in as a sub in exchange for a better girlfriend._  
>   
>  _* Snake and his serpents kept falling asleep due to a malfunction with the heating_  
>   
>  _* Undertaker keeps striking a victory pose with every demon he slaughters_  
> 


	23. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback last week! We really enjoy reading through your comments & predictions. 
> 
> The moral of the chapter: You are what you eat
> 
> **Music**  
> [ Like a Song by Lenka](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLp99Oljg1o)  
>  Sebastian~ [ Talking Body by Tove Lo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzRyxGBGiAE)  
> Ciel~ [ Candy by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWdIVx_poGI)

It was hard to imagine that people had kept going about their business, unaware of the war that waged between immortals in a ramshackled building in the heart of New Orleans. By the time Ciel, Poe and Snake had emerged, the sun had long reached its zenith and was in the process of setting, casting sinister looking shadows around the edifice. Though it seemed impossible, they had been inside for nearly nine hours. Ciel chalked it up to his ignorance of the sempiternal world.

They walked to his car still parked some fifty feet away, the children following them, some still weeping, some asking for their parents or a favoured comfort toy, but most in quiet contemplation, trying to make sense of what they’d only just survived. 

When they finally reached his vehicle, Ciel opened the passenger side door and rested Poe there, reclining the seat for him. He didn’t know what else to do for the familiar; he searched unsuccessfully for a pulse, put his ear next to the little mouth to feel breath that would not come and brushed his hands over where Poe’s nonexistent heart would reside. When he was out of ideas, he considered reopening his wound to allow the blood to run fresh to see if _that_ would make a difference. “Is he…”

Snake watched the young man without distaste for the first time, finally starting to accept some of what Asmodeus might have found appealing in his small spouse. He seemed a loyal enough companion for a mortal, perhaps lacking some confidence, a little ignorant of the ways of his kind, but that would come with time should Asmodeus choose to share his immortality with the Phantomhive heir. “No, I think he’s putting you on bit, says Oscar.”

Sure enough, he saw the corners of Poe’s lips twitch into a smirk, crimson eyes twinkling as a mischievous look that was so similar to Sebastian’s crossed his features.

“Got you!” Poe’s childish singsong voice teased, beaming at Ciel from the seat and eyeing the wound on his wrist with rapt interest. 

“Go on then,” Ciel said, mismatched eyes smiling down at the child as he offered his still throbbing gash to him.

“I did good, Ciel?” he asked, gently grasping the arm in his greedy little hands and licking his lips before putting them to the mortal’s wrist. He looked at the young man from beneath a thick veil of lashes and waited for Ciel’s affirmation before claiming the generous gift that was his master’s second most treasured essence. 

Ciel pet the familiar’s head in response and felt the cool, gentle sucking and licking at his wound, his skin tightening under the child’s soft, flattened tongue, mending itself effortlessly. He turned to Snake, who wore a somewhat avid yet tense expression as the children around him had begun to look listless, slumping and sprawling onto the ground. “What do we do with the little ones? I can’t fit them all in my car, and bringing them to the police station will rouse too many suspicions…” 

“All done, Mistress…” Poe said, needing to pull Ciel’s attention away from the half-breed for a moment, knowing well what was to come. 

Ciel lowered his gaze to examine his arm, unsurprised that it looked as though it’d never been harmed in the first place then turned his attention to Snake again to find him standing awkwardly alone in the parking lot. 

“Where’d they go? What’d you do to them!” he accused, his tone somewhere between shock and anger. 

“Children’s Limbo, Phantomhive, says Emily.” Snake inhaled deeply, his large leathery wings finally folding into themselves and retreating from view as he continued, “They could not return to an ordinary mortal life, damaged as they were, says Wordsworth.”

“You mean we did all of that for _nothing_?” Ciel spat leaving Poe’s side and rounding on Snake. 

The hybrid took a step back, his serpents poking from his sleeves and collar appraising his charge indignantly, “Of course it wasn’t for nothing! Their souls are still whole and their own! A short life is nothing when compared with the immortality of the soul! You still lack a basic understanding of our world, say Donne, Bronte and Wilde.”

“No more than you lack one of mine!” Ciel shot back at Snake, cutting him off. “Their parents won’t ever get any closure having their children fade from existence. They won’t have anything to bury, some will keep waiting to get a phone call every day, hoping it’s the authorities with word of their children’s whereabouts.” 

“I know their identities, I’ll personally seek out the parents, and wipe their memories of their offspring -”

Ciel fumed, shaking where he stood, his small hands alternating between being rigidly open and fisted, “Don’t you dare! No matter how painful, no matter the grief, nothing is worth forgetting a loved one.” He purposefully looked over his shoulder at Poe who had managed to turn on the car without the keys and was pressing random buttons on the console. 

“But that is not what’s really bothering you, is it Phantomhive? Speak truthfully, says Oscar.” Snake could sense it, see the shifting in the boy's aura; it called desperately for its soul's mate as surely as his own.

“It’s like you said, isn’t it? I put my mate’s life at risk when I thought I could save those children…” Ciel replied, his voice gruff and heavy with defeat and repressed anxiety.

In a gesture gentler than Snake was used to with anyone other than his mate, he awkwardly patted the boy’s arm, “I thought you said he promised to come back, says Goethe.” 

“Then why isn’t he here yet?”

***

Sebastian and Undertaker moved swiftly, following the unseen pull of their bonds with their mates. Sebastian’s desperation to return to Ciel overshadowed any of the other instincts and side effects of the essence he’d devoured, his body still humming with power and adrenaline from the battle, buzzing with excess energy that would not be abated until he was by his mate’s side again.

As they broke from the treeline, he could see his mate standing by the car with Snake and Undertaker called out in greeting, “Oi, turn yer frown upside down lil Phantom.” The older being wasted no time in stepping over to his own mate, immediately drawing Snake against him and nuzzling both he and his companions in affectionate greeting while Sebastian paused only a second before he too swooped in to gather his mate into his arms, relief washing through him and echoing in their bond. He didn’t speak, a low guttural purr vibrating in his chest instead as he embraced the young man firmly, uncaring of the state of his tattered clothing and the nearly healed wounds littering his body; the ache of the mending bones and knitting flesh paled in comparison to his elation at being reunited with his mate.

An audible sigh of relief escaped Ciel’s lips as he was pressed reverently against his mate’s chest and felt the hammering of his unnecessary heart against his cheek. He had so many questions for the demon, his mind swam with them, dizzied him as he tried to sort through and prioritize which needed answering first. But those could wait, instead he beamed, tilting back his head to look up at his tall mate’s ashen face, “And what kind of Victorian aesthetic do you call this, hmm?” he teased, fingering the holes that had been seared into the once elegant tailcoat, when very abruptly, Sebastian went limp in his arms. 

It was when Ciel had finally touched him, been made corporeal and real, safe, that the anxious energy that had been staving off the aftereffects from his latest meal finally bled out of Sebastian. A wave of lazy exhaustion crashed over him. It was too much effort to remain standing and he crumpled against Ciel. The power was still simmering in his veins, but it was languid and sluggish, secondary to the desire to simply be motionless, the expenditure of energy to remain upright seemed a waste. And why not relax just for a while, certainly he deserved a respite, a little rest after all his efforts. Only a muffled hum sounded from him as he slipped in his little lover’s embrace, not even concerned as Ciel struggled under his weight.

“Oh dear, lemme ‘elp ya wit ‘im,” Undertaker said, eyes glittering with barely concealed mirth as he slipped away from his own lover to assist Ciel, slinging one of Sebastian’s arms over his own shoulder, “Oi, ‘e ain’t light is ‘e? Oughta keep a closer watch on ‘is diet.” 

“He’s fine the way he is…” Ciel answered through gritted teeth, sagging and swaying under Sebastian’s weight, “Just help me get him to the backseat.” They passed Poe who was beaming brightly at them from the front driver’s seat, bouncing contentedly as he pretended to drive and shift gears, completely unconcerned that his master had collapsed. Snake politely opened the rear passenger side door for them and they awkwardly set the tall demon across the seat with his legs sprawling out the open door. 

Ciel patted him down, starting with his legs and working his way up to his hips, then his chest. Sebastian remained motionless, his eyes looking disinterested with the care and concern flickering in his lover’s mismatched ones. The young man untucked and unbuttoned his shirt for a more thorough examination, and still there was nothing. Walking around to the other side of the car, Ciel opened the door and knelt outside by the demon’s head, kneading and searching the scalp and neck intensively before planting a kiss to his lover's forehead and smoothing his face affectionately. “Hey, what’s wrong… Sebastian, hey... look at me, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Sebastian looked up at his mate, sanguine depths hazy and hooded beneath heavily lashed lids as Ciel ordered him to meet his gaze. A dull throbbing of arousal made itself known and spread under his skin as the young man touched him tenderly, the scent of his desire rising spicily, coiling and saturating the space while the wanting culminated between his thighs where a noticeable bulge had formed in his trousers. He blinked slowly, reaching lazily to thumb along the side of his mate’s neck, using as little energy as possible to move, his chest stilled without breath since it was unnecessary effort to force the movement of his lungs, though his heartbeat still sounded of its own accord slow and sluggish, but there even without the pumping of oxygen. “M’tired… Mmn, want you… Just a taste,” he murmured, lips barely moving to form the husky words as his hand slid around the nape of Ciel’s neck to draw him closer haphazardly.

Undertaker stepped back and slipped an arm around his own mate as he and Snake watched the two from beyond the other rear door. He chuckled under his breath, a broad grin on his lips, knowing in the brilliant green gold of his irises. Ciel did not seem to realize Sebastian’s behaviour was a result of what he’d eaten. He gave Snake a squeeze as the smaller male shifted and shivered against him, obviously being affected by the spicy spiking of the fallen angel’s arousal, obviously inciting and resurfacing his own once again. Maltheal inclined his head slightly to press a kiss to a smooth scaled temple and murmured, “Patience Poppit. We’ll be on our way shortly an’ I’ll take care’ve ya, promise.”

Snake swallowed and closed his eyes as he felt the press of soft lips against his head. “It needs to be soon, says Oscar,” he replied, talking through his companions as his awkwardness and arousal heightened in tandem. “They’ll be alright on their own, won’t they, says Donne. Phantomhive has dealt with his mate’s needs before- just today…” he trailed off, gripping Maltheal’s body almost painfully, his hands kneading the soft skin he’d found under the shirt just as the mortal’s head popped up over the car. 

Not one to usually halt any intimate advances from his mate, Ciel closed the distance between their mouths awkwardly from above only to find Sebastian’s lips pouted and unmoving beneath his own. He kissed them once, twice and on the third time, tried to deepen the kiss, but the demon refused to so much as open his mouth. He pulled back without difficulty, his lover’s hands falling at his side and regarded him with disbelief and concern. He stepped onto the lip of the car’s door with both feet so that he could see over the car and called out to where Undertaker and Snake were stood only ten feet away. 

“Hey! What’s wrong with him? He says he’s tired, but demons don’t get tired, do they?” He looked in at Sebastian, his hands folded over his belly looking up at him in return with something akin to sleepiness in his eyes.

Undertaker chuckled and shook his head as the concern the young man was harbouring echoed in his tone and flickered in his bright eyes as they briefly met gazes before Ciel had ducked down to look at his mate again. He stroked long fingers up and down Snake’s side soothingly as he held him closer, allowing his lover to share in his warmth and bury his face against the side of his neck, all gestures promising further intimacy in the near future. He could smell his mate’s arousal and feel his antsy vibrations through their bond as Snake pressed himself as closely as possible and his cool hands groped at his back imploringly.

He wet his lips before he answered Ciel, ducking his head a bit to see better the young man hovering over Sebastian’s sprawled form, “Didn’ I say, it’s somethin’ ‘e ate ain’t be agreein’ wit ‘im. Ya must’ve noticed in the past ‘ow ‘is diet effects ‘im. ‘E’ll be right as rain once it passes. Iff’n ya want ‘im ta recover quicker, I’d suggest ya give ‘im what ‘e usually requires, iff’n ya catch me drift.”

“Ciel,” Sebastian sighed in a low, lazy drawl, shifting minutely on the seat, his tail drifting with a slow sway over his lap, wilted of its usual energy and hovering in the space limply. “Come lay with me,” he beckoned, reaching one soot-stained hand to brush Ciel’s hip before it seemed to lose motivation and slipped away as Sebastian sighed again for his effort. He just could not muster the energy to pursue his mate, though his body buzzed and throbbed with desire. Damn Belphegor and his profound laziness, the intensity of his slothfulness was overwhelming and so strongly affecting Sebastian, that he could not even be bothered to be frustrated.

Ciel bent his head further, getting properly into the backseat and lifting the demon’s head gently in his hands as he did. “There's no room you giant oaf… can you sit up?” Sebastian mumbled something incoherent in response and Ciel huffed in frustration, putting his arms through the demon's and hefting his form into a sitting position and adjusting his mate’s wings with some difficulty, “Goddammit Sebastian, help me… at least bring your long-ass legs into the car.” Minutes later (which honestly felt more like hours), Ciel shut the doors, affording them a little privacy in the darkening vehicle and wiped sweat from his brow as Sebastian sat to his right at the center of the back seat. 

Having removed his own jacket, Ciel rolled up his sleeves, ready to get down to business, “Okay Sebastian, Undertaker said to give you what you usually require… Christ… can't you even stay sitting upright?” he cursed the demon as he slumped away from him. He mounted his mate to hold him in place when he noticed the sizeable bulge in his trousers. “Really? Of all the fucking times, now?” He turned his head towards the front seats as he fisted Sebastian’s collar trying to keep him up, “Poe, I need your help, can you bite down here,” he said leaning back and extending his arm towards the little form in the driver’s seat. “Poe? What are you…” It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the familiar would react as his master in the present moment; the child was passed out in the driver's seat, face smooshed against the window, quietly snoring. 

He turned back to Sebastian and rested his forehead against the demon’s, felt the fluttering of his mate’s lashes as the glowing garnet eyes struggled to stay open, “Love, hey… Sebastian, stay with me…” He felt the lazy nod of the demon’s head as his hand found the taloned one of his lover and used it to cut into his flesh. Languid rivulets of his own blood started to bead at the surface of his skin and he put his hand to Sebastian's lips waiting for his usual reaction, except it didn't come. 

A heavy, near hopeless sigh escaped his lips and he leaned over and lowered the window halfway so he might see Undertaker and Snake, “Um, it's not working… he’s usually quite enthusiastic about my blood, now nothing… I think he's broken.”

“No no, e’s jus not ‘ungry lil Phantom, though ‘m sure yer blood ‘ud do nicely in speeding ‘is recov’ry. There’re other ways. Surely, ya know wha other needs ‘e ‘as ta be satisfied,” Undertaker replied, raising his silvery brows at the young man expectantly, waiting for Ciel to connect the dots. 

Sebastian slouched in the seat, forked tongue peeking out and lazily swiping over his lips, a low hum rumbling in his chest at the taste, but he did not move, nor open his eyes any more than the slits they already were. The throbbing between his legs became almost painful in response to the flavour of his mate’s divine blood, but he had not the capacity to sooth it in his current state.

Ciel’s eyes widened at Undertaker’s implication and he rolled the window up without a further word. He shifted on Sebastian's lap as the demon had slouched further, making his prominent arousal quite known to him. He gently pushed the palm of his hand against it, feeling its girth, looking Sebastian squarely in the face for any kind of reaction to see if this is what he needed.

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered closed all the way and a pleasured sigh fell from his lips, hips shifting ever so slightly to encourage the pressure against his engorged manhood through the barrier of his trousers, unwilling and unable to move his body more though he was eager enough for the contact. His hands came to rest against Ciel’s hips, their grip lax as his tail lazily trailed up the young man’s back and draped over his shoulder lazily.

“Okay, now we're getting somewhere,” Ciel said in response. He thought Sebastian must be in quite a bad way if he hadn't even bothered doing that disappearing clothes act he usually did when he was looking to be intimate. No matter, Ciel found the buttons of his trousers easily enough and within a few short moments had taken the heavy, stiff cock out from the confines of his mate's trousers.

Snake continued leaching the soothing heat from Maltheal’s body as he watched the boy emerge awkwardly from the back seat of his car _again_. He hadn't done what was required, that much was obvious by the lingering spicy scent that had filtered through when he'd opened the door and the increased arousal from the demon inside had Snake gripping his mate aggressively, his nails digging into the soft skin. “What in hells are you doing out here, Phantomhive, get back in there and tend to your spouse so we can leave, says Wilde.”

Ciel shut the door behind him and leaned against it, shaking his head with what he understood to be a terrified look on his face. “I _can’t_. Not like that. It's not the same.” He said, making a circle with both hands to show the two males regarding him, one barely concealing his laughter while the other narrowed his eyes in irritation. Then to make his point more obvious, Ciel pointed just above his knee. He'd been horrified enough when he'd made a grab for it and untucked it out of the demon's trousers only to find it kept coming out to rest heavily onto most of the demon's thigh. “And it has all these sticky outty bits that look quite painful. It won’t even fit in my mouth much less anywhere else…”

Sebastian’s soft whine of disappointment was lost on his mate as Ciel left him in the backseat alone once again. He hissed softly and shifted again, wings spread in a lazy sprawl against the seat behind him and draped over the edge, dark feathers pooling on the floor beneath where his feet rested haphazardly. His mate had shied away as soon as his length had been revealed in all its natural glory, ridged with spines and dark with smooth sooty scales at the knotted base, larger and thicker than he usually manipulated it to be. It was in its most natural form, no fabrications, restrictions, or modifications that he usually applied in order for his mate’s comfort, unable to make even that effort in his state of stagnation. He couldn’t be bothered though he desperately wanted Ciel to continue touching him.

Undertaker blinked a handful of times before he chortled, “Ay, I’d imagine ‘tis quite the _endowment_. Don’ tell me ya didn’ know whata be expectin.’ Even iff’n he usually changes its shape ta accommodate ya, ya ought’ave guessed it ain’t a mortal cock, least ya can do’s use yer ‘ands an’ mouth ta ‘elp ‘im out. Didn’ take ya fer the squeamish type. ‘Ere, this oughta ‘elp,” he said, dipping one hand into the inner pocket of his long tapered coat and pulling out a slender vial of clear, somewhat viscous liquid and offered it to the young mortal. His other hand stroked at Snake’s side and up to his nape, fingertips and thumb massaging at either side in a bid to relieve some of his mate’s growing frustration and tense need. Soon; they would have their own privacy soon, once he was sure the lil Phantom had engaged with his mate proper.

Ciel took the little bottle from Undertaker, bringing it up to his face, completely at a loss for what he was supposed to do with it? Drink it? Have Sebastian drink it? “Do I put this on his… his uh... “

“Yes! says Emily. Now hurry or we’ll do it for you, say Oscar, Wordsworth and Donne.” The words were barely comprehensible for a mortal, having become gravelly and menacing as his more demonic features took prominence over his human guise. His arousal pulsed and ached, made him light headed as he held onto his mate, needing him for support. He saw the Phantomhive boy turn towards the car again and tangled his hands in the long silver strands of his mate’s hair, pulling at it gently and crushing his body to Maltheal’s, “Please, love. I cannot anymore. Please.” He blinked twice and his golden eyes became vertical slits, pleading as they swam with unshed tears.

Undertaker inclined his head as his mate answered Ciel and began to beg in earnest, voice desperate with need. He gripped Snake close as silver wings slid from his shoulder blades without sound, his fingers brushing at soft flesh, smooth, opalescent scale and silky strands of silvery starlit hair, soothing and tender. “Shh Poppit, s’alright now. I’ll take ya and our darlings home. Hold tight now,” he said as his wings snapped out, silver plumes spread wide in a magnificent display and he adjusted his grip on his mate, keeping him secure against his chest as he abruptly took flight.

Ciel walked back to the car, stopped first at the trunk, pulling out a chunky wool blanket he kept in there for emergencies before going over to the driver’s side door, careful when he opened it to make sure Poe didn’t fall out. After pocketing the bottle, he brought the little boy out and cradled him in his arms, planting a gentle kiss to his nose as he held him close. Initially he’d planned on leaving the familiar with the couple who stood at a distance, but thought better of it after Snake’s implied threat. He would not go to them again, they had helped today more than he’d had the right to ask for. He lowered the slumbering raven-haired child onto the pavement bundled in the thick blanket, bunching it beneath his head like a pillow for his comfort. Ciel knew it should make no difference, that Poe had seen them in the throes of passion several times, but in his present form, it just didn’t feel _right_. He kissed both his cheeks, reminding himself that the familiar probably wouldn’t feel the cold December air the way normal children did, then stripped down to his undergarments. 

He got back into the car next to Sebastian who had slumped over, an almost defeated look upon his handsome face. It only struck Ciel then that the way in which he had left his mate would likely have been understood as rejection, worse still, a lie. Had he not told Sebastian he loved _all_ his parts? It wasn’t that Sebastian’s natural length wasn’t enticing; the more he examined it, the lovelier it became - so sleek and smooth, adorned with all the trappings that would keep its intended lover enslaved, begging, wanton and wanting more. His own member began to stir at the thought of both pleasing such an appendage and in turn being pleased by it. The perceived rebuff hadn’t lessened Sebastian’s erection in the least, which spoke to how sorely he’d needed his mate. Ciel could see it pulse, the spines flaring and tapering synchronously, a plea to be claimed, a desire to be sated. How had he ever thought of it other than just an extension of the being he loved? 

He helped the demon out of his torn shirt and jacket, whispering reassurances, offering apologies and words of worship to him, pressing his pouted lips to his shoulder and up to his neck, stopping short of his ear, “So beautiful, Sebastian. Let me take care of you, love.” His fingers crawled down the demon’s chest then squeezed the knot at the base of his length tenderly before they stroked the slicked spines. “It just took me off guard, that’s all… but I do still love all of you, see?” He left the demon’s ear and bent at the waist, grasping the demonic cock with both hands and gliding them up the length and down, up and down and when they came back up, he strangled the tip and lapped at the pearly essence that spilled from the slit.

Sebastian’s head lolled against his shoulder, thick lashes fluttering languidly open and closed again, the shift of his hips and feathers a bare rustle of encouragement as his mate touched him again. His fingers twitched at his sides, but did not move more, unable to find the energy to actually do anything more strenuous, perhaps the ghosting of a smile curling his lips as Ciel spoke. A lazy shudder ran through him when Ciel’s mouth made contact with his straining length and a low purring hum of approval rumbled through his chest.

From his periphery, Ciel saw the demon’s fingers twitch, so he reached for them, bringing soot-tipped digits to his own hair and squeezed them there, making a fist of the demon’s hand. He dragged his tongue along the contour of the glans as he stroked the ridged spines of the shaft, tightening the grip of both hands and finding a suitable pace. It was impossible this close to it, not to become intoxicated by its heady aroma, the spicy-sweet taste, the smooth contours, the way the scales locked in intricate patterns around the base and the sound he himself made as small slurping and whimpering noises filled the limited space of the vehicle. It was a feast for all his senses, and so he worshipped it as the gift it was, bathing it with his tongue, with no dignity to be had as he smoothed it against his face, his throat, tried to stuff as much of it in his mouth like some demonic cock glutton. He was hungry, made ravenous by it, finally understanding Snake’s desperate need.

Sebastian’s tongue flickered over his lips as he watched his mate attending to his cock with increasingly frenzied enthusiasm, becoming drunk off the pheromones that permeated the enclosure of the vehicle. His rumbling hums of pleasure reverberated in his chest and his fingers spasmed without strength trapped as they were in the tangle of navy dark locks atop his mate’s head. His member pulsed against his mate’s ravenous tongue and eager hands, crawling at a torturously sluggish pace towards his peak. The stubbornly slow built pace was not a reflection of Ciel’s inexperience. It was not that the press of his mate’s lips, deliciously moist cavern of his mouth, kiss of teeth and soft slick sheath of firmly fisted fingers were inadequate, but because like the rest of him, his cock was in no rush to find relief no matter how he longed for it in the desperately throbbing core of his being. 

Ciel wiped a strand of spit from his mouth with the back of his hand as he came up to read Sebastian’s face. He sat back against the seat to the demon’s right, his own face flushed, sweat slipping down his hairline as his chest expanded to accommodate his panting. “Do... Do you want more? Can you at least tell me what you want, love?” He took hold of Sebastian’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the tips as he waited for his response. When none came he turned to face his mate, knees on the seat again and gave him an encouraging smile, “If it’s too much to say out loud, can you put your voice in my head again?”

“Mmn,” Sebastian voiced incoherently, a sigh of exasperated frustration trapped on his tongue as he watched his mate from beneath lowered lids, head still lolled to the side and lazily cradled against his own shoulder, shapely brows lowering and drawing together as he made the effort to communicate as Ciel had requested. It was difficult to order his desires and to then make them known to his mate, finding it to be of such great effort when it was usually a simple expectation of his nature that came as naturally as the lustful grace he generally exuded.

No words formed in their bond, but flickering images of Ciel perched upon his lap, impaled and arched wickedly, his head thrown back, open-mouth vaguely curved in elated pleasure, admitting breath and exhaling hitching desperate sounds. He rutted wantonly atop his mate’s cock, his skin slicked with sweat, glistening as muscles tensed and relaxed in a delicious rhythm, fingers digging into Sebastian’s flesh and feathers, tears of ecstasy clinging to his quivering lashes and glittering ethereally on his cheeks, midnight-violet depths murky and slitted beneath the heavy press of his eyelids, but he did not close them, unable to break his gaze from that of his lover’s.

Ciel drew in a sharp breath, his own member demanding attention at the sinful images Sebastian had put into his head, unable to even muster any embarrassment for the view of himself in the throes of carnal pleasure as his lover no doubt saw him. Instead, he found himself smirking as he took his lover’s face between his hands, cocking his head to the side before kissing the motionless plump lips, “Not demanding at all are you?” He trailed kisses over Sebastian’s chin down to his throat, leaving prominent purple marks along the way. 

Hesitantly, he removed the remainder of his clothes, trying to recall what it was his lover had done to ensure his pleasure; he inserted his fingers into the demon’s mouth then withdrew them, wet and dripping with thick, ropy saliva. He guided his hand towards his eager puckered hole, teasing and rubbing, circling it shyly before slipping in a finger until it reached the knuckle. His breath quickened as he tried to adjust to the feeling, “You do this so much better, pet.” He winced slightly as he pushed his finger in and out of himself, “Mmm… close your eyes, don’t watch me,” he mumbled timidly against Sebastian’s shoulder as he eyed the demon’s glorious cock. Oh gods, it would never fit. He inserted a second finger slowly, knowing that no matter how much he scissored and stretched himself, it would never accommodate such an ample… 

His finger accidentally brushed against the sensitive spot Sebastian always found without difficulty and he screamed, falling forward onto the demon’s chest. It felt so good, but he didn’t want it, not now, he wanted to keep his attention on his lover’s pleasure and needs as the demon had done for him so many times. His free hand found his mate’s still engorged member and he stroked it as he fingered himself in earnest. His gaze left Sebastian momentarily to the heap of clothes on the floor, when he remembered the vial Undertaker had given him. His fingers slipped out and he searched for it, wasting no time to pour it sloppily on his own digits and letting it drip, slow and viscous like honey onto his mate’s member before spreading it all over its length.

Sebastian watched his mate languidly, tracking his movements lazily, heat swirling in the murky sanguine depths, smile curling his lips further when the young man cried out and shuddered, obviously having found his own sweet spot. His tail draped over Ciel’s shoulder and curled laxly around his neck, making his appreciation known. He shifted slightly as Ciel poured a generous amount of the slick liquid from the clear vial, a distinct scent infused with Devil’s mint and the tart sweet richness of Eden’s apples. It tingled and warmed as it spread down his length, the spines lining his shaft quivering with delight as the sensation heightened his arousal and sensitized the flesh. A heady shiver slithered through him and a low growl settled in his throat as his hips jerked ever so slightly to encourage his mate’s delicious touch. “Ciel,” he sighed, hands unconsciously seeking his mate’s hips in slow motion, the movement still hindered by the uncooperative sloth in his veins, becoming more animated in bittersweet increments as the thick, slippery lubricant seeped into his flesh.

“Mm… Almost ready love,” Ciel breathed against Sebastian's ear, dampening the lobe as a soft tingling heat diffused inside him. Something about the succulent oil had definitely increased his need to be filled until he simply didn’t care anymore for preparations and straddled his lover, holding onto Sebastian’s shoulders as he lowered himself, the cleft of his naked rear rubbing up against the demon’s stiff heat. They both sighed in anticipation as Ciel backed into it, rocking himself against the the slippery slick length, sliding it between his cheeks, his own cock weeping against the taut stomach of his lover, leaving delicate threads of precum between them. The lax tail around his neck tightened, but only just and Ciel caught the blunted tip and brought it to his welcoming mouth, teeth scraping it until it served as a gag. “Ready?” he mumbled around the tail, more to himself than anything and he rose, guiding his lover’s rigid arousal straight up until it nudged his opening. He bit down harshly on the tail, pinching his eyes shut as he lowered himself, inch by torturous inch. His breath hitched and came in rough pants as his nails dug into Sebastian’s shoulders, breaking the skin. He stilled once, felt the massive cock throb within his tight sheath then in one fluid motion, sank until he felt the knotted base.

In response, Sebastian’s hips rolled once in a lazy, liquid movement. 

“Ahh! Mmm...S-Seb…” It should be impossible that it fit; it should be even more impossible that it felt as good as it did, but he wasn’t going to question it. “Hah... Sebastian, f-fuck!” He undulated his hips and arched his back, surprising himself by eliciting a rough shuddering groan, his face contorting in pleasure as he found an angle that caused his lover's eyes to widen fractionally. He held the devil’s hands to his ass as he lifted himself, sliding almost off the shaft then dropped back down, plunging himself fully upon Sebastian’s cock with the force of his entire weight, crying out, rocking on top of him, back and forth, hips grinding against his lover’s, his movements bold as he seized control of their lovemaking. 

The windows fogged up as he took his demon with an almost angry, eager ferocity, again and again, he rose only to slam back down, riding Sebastian so hard that he feared he would hurt himself. But Ciel’s sounds were of pleasure and his cries were not that of pain. His body bucked and heaved as his hands wound themselves in the feathered wings of his lover, “Love… you… you… feel so good,” he moaned, “Do- do you like it when I fuck you?”

“Yesss,” Sebastian hissed breathily, his own hips rocking upwards marginally with each downward thrust of Ciel’s. His fingers twitched and gripped at the young man’s tender backside weakly, gaining strength at a bitterly sluggish rate. Even so, his sharp nails dug into the flesh, sending sharp pinpricks of pain through his writhing lover and spurring Ciel’s feverish motions to become even more wild atop him. His tail curled languidly around his mate’s throat, coiling about the arched column twice before the tip came to prod lightly at Ciel’s lips, begging entrance to the wet heat behind their barrier.

Ciel’s little tongue barely brushed the tip of the demon's tail, teasing it with the warmth of sharp hitching breaths before his hand gripped just below the blunted tip and he wrapped his swollen lips around the appendage. He jerked it in an out of his mouth as spit seeped from the corners and dripped from his chin and onto his chest. His own cock bobbed and bounced in time with the gyrating rocking motions of his hips, slapping against Sebastian's stomach as the tight ring of muscle around the demon’s cock constricted and pulsed violently, heightening both their pleasure.

Sebastian grunted and growled huskily, his grip becoming stronger as his hips began to move with more urgency, still subdued, but becoming more desperate as his craving for fulfillment grew and the tingling sensitivity caused by the lubricant sent molten bolts of hot ice down his spine. His wings shifted, stiff with arousal as Ciel’s fingers dug into the thick plumes. He let out a guttural moan as Ciel sucked and nibbled at the tip of his tail. His slitted gaze flickered from his mate’s face and between them, watching Ciel’s manhood bob between them, weeping pearlescent tears of precum desperately. He wanted badly to wrap his fingers around it, to feel its pulse against his palm and watch his mate come undone in his grip, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t trust his grip at the moment; it was getting easier to hold him, but he did not want to rush it.

***

Ciel watched the orange glow of sunrise over the horizon wash over his hands as they alternated between holding onto the back of the driver and passenger seats and gripping Sebastian's knees, squeezing roughly at the flesh as he rode the demon facing away from him. Hours. It had been hours. He continued to back into his lover, pressing his ass against the knotted base, his movements ungraceful and erratic, legs weakened and thighs burning from exhaustion. “Se… bas… tian…,” he called out, voice feeble as he took the devil's hands and held them to his hips, “Can't… can't…” and there was a small knock at the back door to his right to distract from regret of how utterly he had failed his mate.

It felt good, perfect, beautiful, heavenly, and damned frustrating. His mate was still so tight and slick around him and he had yet to find his release. Ciel had peaked many times and he was exhausted, slippery and damp with sweat amongst other things, flushed all over and hoarse after the hours of screaming, sobbing and panting. The effort and length his mate was willing to go to was endearing and Sebastian desperately wanted to reward him. When the knock on the window came, it was like a sudden collapse of a dam, flooding through his veins in a tumultuous rush.

He abruptly shifted, gripping his mate harshly and holding him still as Sebastian took control with sudden intensity. His hips pistoned feverishly, heady squelching noises joining the cacophony of breath, incoherent pleasure sounds, growls and husky grunts, as Sebastian finally was able to find his energy replenished. He bit into the nape of Ciel’s neck a he found his long awaited relief, shuddering as he pumped his mate full of thick seed, grinding his knot inside and revelling in the way Ciel’s body clenched and spasmed around him. He licked the wound closed as the young man sank against him, completely spent. 

The frenzied finale to their evening was over in mere moments after the first knock and another came again as Sebastian leaned back into the seat, pulling Ciel to rest against his chest, stroking his damp and matted hair fondly with one hand while he reached to roll down the window with the other. He was met with a pair of garnet eyes that matched his own as Poe stood outside the door. The child familiar wrinkled his nose and waved a hand in front of his face in distaste, other hand fisted cutely against his hip. “Are the two of you quite finished? I could really use some breakfast,” the little boy complained with a pout as he looked inside at the couple.

Ciel’s legs spasmed as he leaned back, pulling shallow breaths through clenched teeth. His head lolled to the side against the hammering of Sebastian's false heart and he smiled weakly at the little boy. He followed the familiar’s eyes as they trailed down his chest before he remembered his indecency and threw Sebastian's discarded shirt that was draped over the driver's seat onto his lap to conceal himself. 

The crisp morning air filled the car, spreading goosebumps along his flesh as it made contact with his sweat-dampened skin. He shivered and wrapped the demon’s arms around his still heaving chest. “All… done…” he answered, words still coming in ragged pants, then he turned his head to look up at his mate, a slight resonance of dismay infusing his voice, “We… are done... aren't we?”

“For now my love,” Sebastian replied with a soft, pleased curve to his lips, “Now you rest and I will take care of everything else,” he finished, petting soothing fingers over Ciel’s back and sides, coaxing away the ache and leaving a cool numbness in their wake, providing his mate some relief from his no doubt aching body. He tenderly began to dress him, the motions somewhat slow, in no rush as he maneuvered the near boneless young man about in the backseat, conscious of Ciel’s shyness. His true form faded as he finished the task, finding the effort to force it back beneath his human flesh to be so much more of an inconvenience than usual.

Once he’d finished, he laid Ciel back against the wide seat and pressed kisses to his face and lips, the gesture appreciative and adoring. Threads wove themselves around his lower half, giving him some decency, but he did not bother with more than trousers; he’d rather focus what returned energy he had on his mate’s comfort after all Ciel had endured for him through the long hours of lovemaking. The mortal had proved himself more than devoted and the fallen wanted to be sure he understood what it meant to him. To be taken care of was not something he was used too. He didn’t think he ever would be and he didn’t want to be; he hoped the warm peace he felt inside Ciel would never fade or be forgotten. Surely he’d go mad without it.

He pulled himself away reluctantly, slipping out of the passenger door and gesturing for Poe to take his place. He cupped one of the little boy’s cheeks and met his matching gaze. “Keep him warm, won’t you?” he requested and the child merely nodded, a soft smile lighting up his cherubic face. He crawled into the backseat and spooned himself alongside his mistress, yawning widely and snuggling into Ciel’s side, wrapping slim arms around him and fisting little fingers in the linen shirt in which Sebastian had clothed him, cooing and purring as he got comfortable and Ciel’s arms came to hold him in return, naturally protective of the smaller form.

Sebastian closed the door and slipped around the vehicle to slide into the driver’s seat as the first fat drops of rain impacted and shattered into rivulets on the windshield. He turned the ignition and began to hum as the car purred to life around them, content to fill the silence with his lullaby and his lover’s breaths.

The mortal nuzzled the familiar’s hair, holding him close to his body, and between the identical heady scent Poe had inherited from his master, the gentle rocking motions of the car and the low hummed lullaby coming from the front seat, Ciel didn’t stand a chance in hell in staying conscious longer than it took for them to leave the parking lot. 

_The jostling of his infant carrier woke him from a long car nap as it was being carried up a flight of stairs by his mother. He made a small sound as he stretched and she stilled, turning her head towards him and gracing him with her reverent smile. His gaze left the clear, light blue sky overhead and fell on her, devouring her with hungry eyes, adoring the way they crinkled when she smiled. She was perfect. Beautiful and kind, devoted and loving. She was his whole world._

_He was set down momentarily, something that caused his pouted lip to tremble, expelling his chewie. She gently rocked his carrier with her foot and it mollified him for the moment, but if she didn’t pick him up soon, he was going to have to start whimpering again. He just wanted to be close to her, needed to be constantly held and comforted. Longed to be embraced and cradled in something soft but not delicate. He pictured the feathers his mother used to tickle his naked flesh after bathing, and since then, had wanted to be swathed in them completely, to see them pure white, curving from back to front, providing warmth and protection, fitting perfectly together as they overlapped and kept him content. He’d felt that before, though he wasn't sure when that feeling of safety and comfort had disappeared or if it had ever existed at all; the closest he'd come to experiencing the vague, fleeting yet familiar sensation had been in the rare peaceful dreams he’d had._

_A melodic ringing sound caught his attention and his mother whispered excitedly, “Here he comes…” A door pulled open and quite abruptly he saw his mother's feet disappear from the ground as she was hoisted enthusiastically into someone's arms._

_“Rachel! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming early? I would have driven to the airport to meet you!” A man scolded her, but the voice was soft, soothing and denoted something beyond elation._

_“Don’t be ridiculous Vincent, Ciel and I wanted to surprise you, didn’t we sweetheart? Yes we did…” She bent over to untie the clasp that held him in his carrier and his arms reached desperately for her, for any part of her. When his small form finally made contact with hers, he buried his face in her soft, waved hair, taking in her comforting, familiar scent of sweetened milk and rosehip._

_“Say hi to Daddy, Ciel,” she told him, holding him at arm's length and then brought him in to blow raspberries on his chubby cheeks. A peel of laughter erupted from him as he turned his head to look at the man and recognition set in; he'd seen this face before and often. He brought his little hand up and waved to himself, becoming momentarily mesmerized by the way his fingers moved before his eyes. This lapse in attention, this distraction had not allowed him to register the man’s handsome face moving in towards him, until it kissed his forehead, leaving soft lips there for a moment before they withdrew._

_“You’re getting so big, Ciel! Oh, I missed you both so much.” His father said, pulling them both in for a hug. When they separated, his father’s arms were outstretched, waiting for him to mimic the action, which he did, smiling. “Rachel, he’s smiling, look. He’s smiling at me. He remembers me.” Supporting his padded bottom, his father held him, his back to the large chest, so that he never lost sight of his mother._

_“Of course he does, we look at your pictures all the time,” she answered, reaching for a small laminated book of pictures in his carrier and handing it to his father. Ciel reached for it; it was his most cherished possession, filled with images of Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Angelina and his cousin Elizabeth. “He’s ever so smart Vincent, has a wonderful memory, don’t you my sweet little man?” He made a cooing sound in response, followed by a “Mamamama” of agreement._

_“Are you sure it was wise to bring him here? We _could_ just move into the London flat, leave _him_ here.” he heard his father's concerned voice ask in a whispered tone as though trying to hide this topic of conversation from him._

_“Vincent, we’ve been over this a hundred times; he’s eight months and he’s never been **home** and he has every right to be here.” Ciel could hear the strain in her voice, and it made him fuss and squirm in his father’s arms. _

_“I know, it’s just…”_

_“Did you reinforce the Servant’s Snag?” she asked and Ciel saw his father nod. “Spoke to him, ordered him to keep his distance?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Then it should be enough. **You** never had any issues with him growing up in this manor did you?” His mother picked up his chewie from the infant carrier and handed it to him as she thread gentle fingers through his sparse navy baby-fine hair. _

_“No. My first interaction with him was when I was eight and my father took me to observe my first exorcism,” his father replied as he brushed her face gently since it had pinched with distinctive distaste at his last statement. “We’ll keep him away from that for as long as we can, I promise you that. I'll make myself the villain if need be. I can’t impose changes to his own contract, but I can make it that he wants to amend it himself.” It seemed enough to convince both his parents to go along with his homecoming and his father lead the way into the grand foyer._

_Sebastian was pacing in his cage. Vincent had been insufferable, warning him and intently reinforcing the snag that held him with fresh blood. The man hadn’t said, but the fallen knew why he had been so irritatingly demanding. He knew the infant heir had finally come home; he could smell him, the scent familiar from when the boy child had still been safely cocooned in his mother’s womb. He smelled like heaven, like his name, innocently delicious and fondly nostalgic; like moth to flame, it drew him, called to him. Regardless of what his father did to protect him, Ciel would someday be his. They would not be able to keep the boy from him forever. And just because Vincent had warned him did not mean there were not ways he could be in contact with the child; Vincent had not been careful enough with his words. Every contract had careless loopholes and theirs was no different._

_The rain had begun to fall heavily as his father had given him his last bottle before bed, painting the sky in shades of dark blues and purples and making it seem much later than it was. He was full, content and it hadn’t taken much time for him to fall asleep after their busy day of taking walks on the grounds, feeding the funny ducks and playing in the bath. The first crack of thunder startled him awake, and he lay there on his back looking at the butterflies that hung from his mobile overhead. His chin trembled as he turned over and pushed himself up into a sitting position looking for his mother. When he could not find her, he held onto the crib bars and rose to his feet and walked the periphery unsteadily, all the while whining for her as great big tears swam in his eyes before falling over the edge of his bed and splattering on the floor._

_By the time the second roar of thunder came, silent tears and whimpers gave way to sobs and shrill screams. He didn’t like it. Didn’t want to be home. His room was too big, too dark. The space too quiet without his mother’s heartbeat next to him to soothe him back to sleep. He fell to his bottom in the crib and cried out a heartbreaking wail, his little body shaking and trembling as the thunder shook the large house._

_Sebastian stilled when he heard it, that first fateful whimper and he smiled when those almost hesitant first threads of fear gave way to the wailing sobs of terror from the infant heir. Poor little creature was absolutely terrified of the storm that had rolled in over the manor. He could feel it through the ties of the Phantomhive family’s contract and something more, something purer that he could not quite distinguish or describe. He waited, frozen in tableau, unbreathing as heartbeats ticked by and Sebastian heard no footsteps, no cooed assurances from the little lord’s parents; they did not hear him over their slumber and the pelting rain overhead._

_The child was so frightened, feeling endangered, sure his little life would be ended by the terrible growling thunder and flashes of bright lightning splitting the sky and igniting his room with a terrifying array of shadows only to go dark moments after. So many scary things could be lurking in the dark, he knew like all humans instinctively did, the dark was to be feared. As another clash of lightning lit up the sky outside and thunder crashed like roiling waves in its wake, the boy child shrieked and Sebastian could smell the salt from his tears. Ciel was calling him as surely as he was calling for the protection of his beloved mother. She did not hear him, but the demon did and he answered, slipping through the loopholes in the contract. The child believed he was in danger, no matter how irrational, he feared for his life and Sebastian could slip free of his bonds on that fear alone; he was to keep the Phantomhive bloodline safe above all else._

_The bars of his cage swung open and he stepped from inside the confines confidently, feathers breaking through his human flesh to trail behind him as his more natural form took residence in his imposed flesh. He crept into the infant’s room silently, the barest whisper of wing the only sound that followed his movements, too hushed beneath the thunder and rain to be heard. Glowing eyes crawled over the teary faced child as Sebastian loomed next to the crib, looking down upon him. “Is it so scary little butterfly?” he asked in a low, husky tone, cocking his head to the side with interest, though he expected no answer to be forthcoming, reaching to thumb away a tear from the little boy’s flushed cheek._

_The baby’s breath hitched at the gentle touch to his face and he hiccuped, sniffed and swallowed, trying to sound wounded to garner more affection and sympathy from the owner of the hand. His tear-streaked face turned upwards as his long dark eyelashes fluttered, sprinkling unshed, lingering tears. He squinted, trying to see to whom the voice belonged to; it was vaguely reminiscent and certainly comforting, though he had no direct recollection of having heard it in the months he’d be gifted to his new parents._

_A bright flash of lightning momentarily bathed the room in resplendent light and illuminated the familiar face. Desperate whining and fussing sounds formed at the back of his throat as he stretched, his pudgy hands shooting up when the light had faded. “Aaaa- Aaaa…” he babbled, his little fingers eagerly grasping at the air between them, trying to close that distance to touch him again after so long a time. The eyes, they were all wrong; they were fire instead of ice, but the scent, the voice, they were unmistakably him._

_Sebastian found a smile ghosting over his lips as the infant immediately reached for him, desperate in his desire to be held and comforted by the likes of the fallen. He was unexpectedly endeared by the gesture. So innocent the little lord was, so pure in his wanting and unafraid, unhindered by morality. The demon tenderly picked him up, drawing him in and cradling him against his chest, rested safe and warm in the crook of Sebastian’s arm. He looked down at him with fond interest, rather pleased by the child’s apparent trust. Ciel did not shy away from him. He tucked his wings in around them, blocking out a majority of the thunderous sounds with the plumed buffer and rocked the little heir unconsciously. “There’s nothing for you to fear in the shadows little butterfly. That’s where I live and I’ll not let any harm come to you. You’re as much mine as theirs, you see,” he murmured as he brushed sootstained fingers over Ciel’s brow, soothing away the flushed heat from his skin. “No more tears now; it’s time for sleep little master,” he cooed, following up the admonishment with a low, husky humming, a lullaby he did not recall knowing slipping through his parted lips as he swayed and rocked the infant in the gentlest and safest of embraces._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of bloopers this week- time kind of got away from us this week as we worked on advancing the plot- we'll try to add them soon!
> 
> Have art instead!


	24. Bonus Interlude: Serpentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of this chapter is Snakes aren't always found in the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is a special bonus chapter so there will be no bloops for this one, but hopefully you will all enjoy it as a number of you have expressed an interest in this pairing since we ship the shit out of it in this fic and in general. Yes, you guessed it, UnderSnake smut ahead!
> 
> *In case you don't really care for it and you might want to skip this chap, be warned, there are some important bits in it so you might want at least skim it.*
> 
> Anyways, we hope you all enjoy it as much as we did writing it!
> 
> Also, check us out on tumblr for extra goodies (including some special nsfw art XanderB did for this fic) and info or just to say hello:
> 
>  
> 
> [ @xandiepandie-blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xandiepandie-blog)  
> [@Chromehoplite](https://chromehoplite.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> And/or see what Poe has to say on his IG:  
> 
> [@poe_michaelis](https://www.instagram.com/poe_michaelis/)
> 
> Holy hell, I promise the PR is over; here's the music for this chapter!
> 
> Undertaker~ [ “Queen of Peace” and “Long and Lost” by Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSM0lLbVYOo)
> 
> Snake~ [ La Petite Mort by Coeur de Pirate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDturpwxal0)

There was something so soothing about their home. Located in the sloping hills of Ireland, the cottage was neither large nor was it small, but somewhere between, moderate and with a number of odd trinkets as well as furniture within, but it suited them just splendidly. He’d always been fond of the countryside, the simple beauty and the simpler folk that were entertaining in their simplicity and the climate was one in which his lover’s little darlings could live comfortably. It was a place they all could live safe and warm and peaceful. It was home.

Undertaker hummed to himself as he landed on the cobbled path some ways down from the stone steps of the home he and his mate shared. Silvery wings extended in a sterling display, glittering ethereally as though the plumes might be made of crystal, an illusion of the inhuman colouring, the feathers silkier than any fabric known to mortals and more valuable than could be fathomed by most. He pulled Snake in close to him, holding his body with firm tenderness as he coaxed him to dance along the path with him, slow and comfortable as they made their way to their doorstep at a languid and wholly excruciatingly taunting pace, but they had all the time in the world. There was no rush even if the desperation in his mate’s scent was making it difficult for even he to control himself. 

His mate’s back met the door with a dull thud and Undertaker loomed over him, wings an opalescent canopy about them as he leaned in to press a row of adoring kisses along the sensitive scaled throat, tracing the colouring with his tongue and humming his appreciation. “So bloody lov’ly ya’re Poppit. Ya’ve been so patient an’ all yer colour is showing, drives even a creature such as me ta th’ brink o’ madness,” he murmured against his mate’s warmed flesh and scale, the praise heavy with desire on his tongue, reverent in its expulsion from his lips clinging like precious secrets to his lover’s skin.

Snake's fingers dug into the wooden door, splintering and crumbling it, intensely aware of the sweetness of his mate’s tongue as it tormented the sensitive flesh of his throat at a deliberately slow pace. Maltheal always teased him so, always prolonged their pleasure until Snake was shaking and feverish with want, was brought to the brink of death then revived by his lover. But not now. He couldn't wait. Had been made to wait too long. His elongated tail was heavy with arousal as it wound its way around his mate’s waist and drew him in closer until he could feel Maltheal’s member pulse against his own through the layers of clothes they wore. His fingers ran the length of his mate’s trouser inseam, compelling it to melt under his touch to put an end to his wait, but they remained in tact. A low, husky growl found its way to his lips as his lover’s mouth curled into a mischievous smile and his eyes shone with a seductive playfulness. 

He coiled his body around his beloved and reversed their positions, Maltheal’s back slamming against the door, then pinned him there with one hand, his fingers splayed over his lover’s chest while the other gently pushed Emily, Wilde, Bronte and Oscar aside, hissing a low warning aggravated sound as they too sought to be close to his mate. Their presence reinforced his possessiveness and he told them in no uncertain terms that he would not share Maltheal tonight. 

“Can’t... get their scent… off my tongue,” he fussed, referring to Asmodeus and his little mate. His voice held all the desperation of a starved man as he fisted his lover’s shirt and abruptly snapped his mouth around the buttons one at a time and spit them out; his hands quaked and tremored and would not do for such a dextrous task. “Need to replace it with yours… with ours...” Once he rid the shirt of the buttons, he tore it off his mate, taking no time to revel in Maltheal’s ethereal scarred flesh, but mapped out his lover’s body with his forked tongue, simultaneously tasting and smelling him. He shuddered and hissed as he left a trail of his own marks on his throat, his lips tracing a viciously tender path across the prominent collar lingering at the pulse point his mate fabricated to give the impression that he was prey for the hybrid, rousing his naturally aggressive instincts.

Maltheal chuckled huskily, his hands reaching to smooth up his lover’s sides, steadying and trying to soothe his tension. He let Snake nip and suck at his throat and collar, tilting his head to afford his mate better access to the flesh as his false pulse spiked beneath the flicker of his lover’s forked tongue. “I know Poppit, let’s go inside where t’s warm. Put th’ lil darlin’s to bed,” he prompted in a soft murmur, one hand migrating to tickle beneath Emily’s chin, his other hand slipping away from Snake’s side reluctantly to turn the handle beside his hip, the knob giving under his touch and allowing them entrance.

He tugged his mate inside after him, the door reclosing itself firmly as they moved further into their home towards the back of the cottage where their bedroom and the serpent hutch was located. He pressed his mate back against the door of their bedroom and kissed him, smiled when Snake pushed back against him aggressively, his fingers curled tightly in the open tails of his shirt, trying to trap him, draw him closer and keep him. And when the hybrid flipped their positions again, he let him, allowing and revelling in the scaled male’s attention as Snake rubbed against him, scenting him and tasting him with salacious interest. 

Abruptly, he stepped into his mate, wings propelling him forward and he steadied the other male in his hold as he guided him backwards to their large, plush, canopied bed. He laid him back upon it and hovered over him, grinning widely down at him. He reached to begin undressing him, giving pause each time one of his lover’s companions crossed the path of his fingers and he carefully removed them, cooing at them and affectionately stroking their noses and brows as he would step to the hutch on the right side of the large bed. He coaxed them into their individually designed and dressed drawers, whispering fond goodnights as he tucked them inside, closing the compartments before he turned back to his impatiently squirming mate. He purposely took his time with his ministrations, humming appreciatively as each new expanse of his love’s flushed scale and flesh was revealed to him.

Snake sat cross-legged in the center of their bed on the soft billowy linen watching his mate with utter adoration as he spoiled his companions. No one else in history had loved, cared for and understood the serpents before himself; the way nobody had loved, cared for and understood him before Maltheal. His blood pumped cool and strong and his immense arousal caused his sleek leathery wings to quiver and pierce the canopy overhead as they expanded to fold around him, wary of his nudity, still ashamed, even after all this time of his mutations and the anomalies that had taken shape at the time of his conception. He was neither purely angelic nor purely demonic but rather an odd mix of both. Nephalem, looked down upon by both his kin, but not by his mate. Never by his mate.

Tucking the last of the little beauties away, whispering sweet dreams to the smallest of them as he closed up Donne’s drawer, Maltheal finally turned his full attention to his mate. His venom bright green eyes narrowed then dilated as they crawled over his lover’s exquisitely unique form, wetting his lips and stepping towards him as he took in the bashful attempts to hide his lovely body from him, still shy even after all the years they shared between them. His smile was warm, assuring and adoring as he cocked his head, brushing long silver strands back over his shoulder as he moved gracefully toward Snake. “Ya jus’ git prettier ‘n prettier ev’rytime yer bare b’fore me Poppit. Such allurin’ colours,” he complimented, reaching out one hand to brush his fingers ticklishly along the arch of the Nephalem's suede-soft wing as Snake tried to obscure the perceived shameful parts of his form from his lover. Maltheal did not chastise him, scold him or scorn him, either for his unique mutations or his ingrained self-conscious nature, instead praising him and reminding him how beautiful he truly was in the reaper king’s eyes. Just the same as he always did because it was the truth and his mate should know it.

“Mal, please...” Snake moaned at the compliment, lids closing over glowing vertical pupils; the immortal knew his weakness for praise and shamelessly exploited it at every opportunity. He turned his face away from his mate coyly, rubbing his own cheek against his shoulder as he blushed scarlet. Small curved horns protruded from his thick shag of white hair, stealing the heat that had risen to his face and exposing their tetrachromatic hue. Hesitantly, the hybrid got to his knees, crawling towards the edge of their bed, tail snapping with urgency, studying and appraising Maltheal’s lean, defined form and all the silver scarred areas where his mate enjoyed being teased. He straightened, finding himself eye to eye with his lover, never let go of his gaze as he relieved him of his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. His elongated fingers stroked his mate’s sides, smooth scales gliding over the skin, raising his flesh as he moved south of the navel to tickle the soft patch of silvered hair that lead to his prominent pulsing heat. He trailed demanding, cool, open-mouthed kisses from Maltheal’s jaw to the pierced shell of his ear and traced the delicate contours with his forked tongue, laving it in sweetened breath as he spoke, “You’ve put the babies to bed, flattered me and you’ve hesitated getting undressed; I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me…”

“What a clever jest Poppit, but ya know better’n ta believe ther’s any truth ‘n that,” Maltheal replied, voice dropping several octaves, taking on a husky and feral quality as his fanged smile spread widely across his face. His vibrant honeyed green eyes became darker with such depths of heat and desire that spoke of eternities past, present and future; there had never been and would never be any other that boasted the claim of a God. Only Snake who was neither good nor evil, profoundly compassionate though he had not known compassion himself, was neither angel, or devil, or human. An aberrant, a natural occurring anomaly that had somehow escaped notice and been allowed to live beyond conception. He was perfection and it was reflected in the devotion of those infinite depths.

He let his mate draw him in, lifted a hand to his lover’s head, threading black-lacquered fingertips through the web-fine starlit strands between the little ridged horns that had protruded and coloured in his mate’s arousal. His love wanted him so desperately, needing to feel him, to be warmed and remember how much he was cherished. Maltheal would remind him. His clothing finally began to melt away like wisps of smoke, revealing more of the milky skin and the silvery scars his body bore since the beginning of time and would no doubt continue to bare until the end. He was all smooth angled bone and lean sinew, fae ears peeking through the long strands of his own moonstone hair, his form youthful, healthy, strong and handsome despite the scarred tissue and deceptive of his age. Older than even Yahweh as he’d been born just a moment before his brother. 

He wet his rose-dusted lips, a matching flush colouring his vaguely ridged and obviously eager cock as he released it from the confines of the clothing he’d been wearing. The fingers of his unoccupied hand slipped to the flared base of the thick length, holding it steadily and squeezing ever so lightly “Tell me whatchya want Poppit an’ I’ll give’n t’ ya,” he coaxed silkily, fingertips stroking through his mate’s soft hair and massaging tenderly at his scalp while he looked down at the beautiful hybrid from beneath hooded platinum-silver lashes.

Asmodeus may have been the embodiment of a Mortal Sin, may have stirred and awakened his arousal, but Snake was no mortal and the demon of Lust did not hold a fraction of his interest the way his mate did. No paintings of Maltheal had ever adorned the ceiling of an Italian chapel the way his twin had because no artist alive, past or present had ever had the skill and refinement to capture his mate’s impossible beauty. There were no colour palettes to replicate the glow of his eyes, no hand steady enough to define the shape of those taut youthful muscles that hid beneath the perfect flesh, and besides, none but him had lived to witness Maltheal at his most glorious, his most breathtaking, on the brink of ecstasy. 

Snake pierced his own bottom lip as his fangs elongated at the sight of his lover’s flushed arousal. Despite their devotion to one another, he was still a lesser being, and his nature compelled him to keep his eyes downcast in the presence of such Greatness. He backed slowly away from his mate, lay down at the center of the bed, gradually unfurling his wings one after the other, displaying his body, every mutation, every sparsely scaled inch as he shivered in anticipation. His head was kept turned away, the barest tip of his wing concealing a portion of his face as he took on a shy yet pleading tone with his mate, “You did say you would take care of me if I was patient…”

“Tha’ I did Poppit,” Maltheal replied, his hungry gaze crawling over his lover’s presented form, cataloguing each dip and curve, each smattering of opal-prismed scale and flush of colour on skin, the subtle quiver of his mate’s legs and stiff shuddering of wings and tail in aroused anticipation and the skittish obscurity of his lovely face. He slid his hands up Snake’s sides appreciatively, groping, massaging and soothing with fingertips and palms and he bowed forward, leaning further in to flick a clever tongue along the side of his mate’s throat, following the familiar map of lithe musculature, to his collar, his shoulder, his chest, nipping at rose-peaked nipples for lingering moments until his mate’s panting accelerated ever so sharply. When Snake arched and a soft whine escaped between the labour of his breaths, Undertaker’s mouth and hands both sought lower, palms hot and heavy against the younger being’s hips, long fingers curling and squeezing firmly over the soft plump curve of his backside while his lips and tongue teased and traced the smooth lines of his love’s belly, the tip flickered ticklishly beneath the half moon divot of Snake’s navel, reveling in the little shivers that overtook him. 

He took his time as he retraced familiar contours that he’d never tire of worshipping, tasting greedily at his lover’s skin, nibbling at patches of cool scale at his hips and inner thighs, tenderly laving attention over the sensitive transition where scale became skin. He murmured praise from between his mate’s thighs as he coaxed them apart to explore further, humming his approval as his mouth found the smooth, slick arc of Snake’s erection, following it down to the tender slit it protruded from and further still to where his mate desperately wanted him. He prodded and massaged at the rosey little orifice between the spread cheeks of his mate’s rear, spoiling his lover slowly as he worked it inside at a torturous pace. _Beautiful,_ whispered through the bond between them, settling and seeping into Snake’s body until he would no longer deny it like so many times before this and so many times to come.

Snake came up on his elbows, swept the long silvery celestial strands of his lover's hair from his body to get lost in his mate’s show of affection and worship. He took in the perfect curve of his lover’s backside, eyes lingering there, accelerating his pulse and followed upwards to the dip in his back, the lissome definition of his shoulder blades as they rolled then raised his bottom to his eager mouth. He watched with baited breath, craning his neck to get a better view, still squirming and shifting in his lover’s hold, trying to suppress the yearning whines and whimpers; it was a feeble attempt as his appeals to be sated came through their bond, bold, demanding and fervent. He lingered too long and met his lover’s hungry gaze just over the slitted mound where his arousal waited impatiently. His pupils dilated, as both chin and eyes dipped down embarrassed, a flush creeping across his cheeks at having been caught watching.

Undertaker hummed his amused approval, charmed by his mate’s eagerness and subsequent endearing shyness, the vibrations from the sound echoing where his mouth made contact with his lover’s delicate and enthusiastic little entrance. Snake arched and tried to buck against him, but was held firm by the pale digits at his hip while the others took pity on the writhing hybrid, trailing to the slit where his lover’s manhood protruded, sliding inside the slick and cushioned folds of the orifice to tease the tender base of his length where he knew it was most sensitive. The sound his lover made in response made his own cock throb viciously, insistent and demanding, wearing on his restraint and rapidly wrecking his patience. 

He made a guttural, feral sound in his chest, rolling like waves against a jagged shoreline and retracted his tongue from the fluttering pucker and instead retraced his path to trade places with his long fingers. His tongue caressed and lapped inside the soft cavern, encouraging more sweet fluids to accumulate as he nibbled along the underside of Snake’s smooth, contoured shaft while his fingers pressed, thrust, twisted and curled expertly inside the equally lubricated channel between the plush cheeks of his mate’s rear. His movements were becoming more aggressive, betraying the loss of his patience and his own growing desperation to fulfil his love’s demands, lewd sounds rising from between his mate’s thighs as he pleasured him. Maltheal made him keen and whine and gasp until he was a shaking, kneading at the bedsheets because he couldn’t properly reach his lover’s back where he’d no doubt have buried his nails if he could have and so he would soon enough. How the first reaper longed for the marks of his mate’s desire on his skin. The aching under his skin and the throbbing of his own cock only fueled further by the memory of such claims in the past and spreading headily as he delayed it, prolonging the unnecessary preparation purely for his own enjoyment, because his lover was so devastating to behold when he was uninhibited and unabashed, begging without words to be taken.

Snake’s mouth opened in a silent cry, taut gasps filling the air. He wanted to moan, to scream with the thrill and bliss that thrummed through his body, but he didn’t dare wake his darlings. He uttered an elongated hiss and parted his legs even more, pushing his hips up and rutting against the warmth and hardness pressing into him. He tasted Maltheal’s arousal and his need as he wet his lips, forked tongue quivering as it made out the scent, heavy and thick, overpowering and intoxicating. He gave a guttural cry as he gripped his aching arousal, strangling and squeezing it, begging through his bond for his mate to stop before it was too late. 

His heels dug into the mattress, his back arched off the bed as he drew his tail from beneath him with a slithering rasp to caress his love’s thigh and wrap around it before snapping and slapping his rear with deliberate force. He was rewarded with an exhilarant grin from his mate as he looked up again, but this time, Snake met his gaze and held it, eyes glowing dangerously as the smooth long appendage left the thigh and wrapped around his mate’s weeping cock twice, pumping it gently at first then with purposeful aggression. “Quit being chivalrous and give in to your… need,” Snake hissed, the rumbling in his chest becoming more audible with the tightening and loosening of his grip on his erection, rubbing scale on scale, and making a dry, tinkling sound.

Maltheal’s eyes glittered beneath the press of pale lashes as he pulled away to properly drink in his mate. He ran his tongue over his sharp teeth predatorily, unconscious of the motion as he stalked his lover’s movements. A purring growl echoed in his chest as he finally allowed his restraint to break entirely and gave in to the natural base desire to be connected with his bonded mate. He pinned his mate’s hands above his head with one ghostly pale and scarred hand unwavering as it gripped his wrists and held them captive. His other hand was at his own cock, guiding it where they both desired it. A low thrumming croon of satisfaction tumbled from his flushed lips as he pressed inside with little resistance; his mate was tight, but slick and familiar with him, trusting. He shuddered as he sank in by inches, still making the husky feral sounds as his mouth sought his mate’s hungrily and his moan was lost to his lover’s tongue as Snake’s nails raked over the expanse of vulnerable flesh between his wings just how he’d imagined he would. And he began moving breaths later, rocking in and out of his mate with powerful rolling thrusts, angled with deadly accuracy in which to render his love breathless.

A low, tameless growl resonated in Snake’s chest in answer to his mate’s enticing sounds, causing the drawers adjacent to the bed to rattle and slide open, small flickering tongues poking out, scenting the heavy pheromone-laden air. His wings shivered in frustration, wrapped around his mate’s celestial body and pulled him closer to his own; he craved his mate, needed more, wanted to be inside his lover as his lover pound into him. He devoured his mouth, made his own fingers wet with his holy blood and when it still wasn’t enough, he snapped his tail forcing the tip to become swollen and blunted before slithering its way between the globes of Maltheal’s firm backside to prod the lovely puckered hole therein. He wrapped his legs around his lover and held him so tightly, so desperately against his body that he felt Maltheal’s cock violently pulse as it was buried inside him and stayed there unmoving. When only the sound of lips and tongues moving against each other could be heard in the room, his tail sank into his mate’s tight heat, swelling and expanding, drawing out hisses and groans of delight as it fucked hard into the first reaper in tandem with his lover’s harsh thrusts. And still, it wasn’t enough. “Stop holding back, you know I won't break,” he panted, knowing if he did, his mate would put him back together.

Maltheal groaned and hissed through his teeth harshly as he rocked harder, forcing himself deeper into his lover while Snake’s wicked tail crept further inside him. He shuddered, his fingers digging into his mate’s hips as he held them aloft, his wings snapping out straight as he arched his own back, forcibly drawing the other male’s backside against his intruding cock, slick slapping sounds rhythmic beneath their mingled breathing, moans, growls and cries. His aura seethed around them, rolling out in waves of power, spicy sweet on the palate and heavily carpeting flesh with possessive claim as the god drove into his mate over and over. Ghostly dark tendrils slithered about Snake’s cock like black silk, stroking, petting and throbbing around the slippery arousal while Maltheal felt his impending end approaching, a hush in the storm of his blood before the wave broke over his flesh and spilled over to his lover. 

His hips moved in a blur of motion, inhumanly fast and too powerful for any mortal to survive, but his mate was no human and Snake only drew him in further, constricting around him, nails biting into his back and welting the pale flesh, greedily clenching and relaxing around his manhood, arching and meeting him thrust for thrust, and he shuddered and shook as his lover’s clever tail found the weak spot inside him that cast him off the ledge of his climax. He slammed forward, a guttural praising moan spilling from his mouth as it sought his mate’s while his swollen knot forced its way into Snake’s slick, pulsing heat, locking him in place as he filled him with pearly release, milking his pleasure as his body rippled around his lover’s tail, eagerly attempting to trap the appendage inside him as his lover’s body did the same.

Snake fisted his mate’s hair, wrapping it around his wrists, tugging and pulling it to the side, nudging and nosing the crook of Maltheal’s neck, inhaling his heady spicy-sweet scent and licking the dewy moisture dripping down his throat as his lover found his release. His tail slipped out of him, and curled its tip, beckoning his lovelies as he neared his own peak. He called out to his mate in warning, spitting and growling in vicious delight as the tendrils worked his cock at an unseen speed, hips bucking and thrusting into the tight grip. Maltheal secured his hips in place, his hold strong yet gentle as he stayed buried inside the hybrid. Beneath him, his wings shifted, quavering and thrumming, aching with agitation, the tips eclipsing opalescent to the blackest black. He cried out as his back arched and his shoulders dug into the mattress, slitted eyes glaring menacingly at his mate as gold irises gave way to crimson, promising violence and agony. He snarled and hissed, losing himself to the fiendish and frenetic, shedding all that was holy. Silver hair ignited, scorching their bed in a lilac hellfire as a darkened, inky, slicked scale claimed the sparsely iridescent scaled flesh and spread to coat his body. Vicious fangs elongated and claws emerged and lengthened, the call to blood too powerful to ignore, possessing him with a desperate need to pierce and pilfer the god’s essence. 

He reared his head, unhinging his jaw, going in for the kill, his lover looking at him without judgement as Satan’s son lost himself to the demonic portion of his nature. Emily and Wilde secured his right wrist, Oscar, Donne and Bronte were at his left, holding him down, Wordsworth coiled himself around his neck, cutting off his air, protecting his mate. When the oxygen all but ran out, the tendrils around his cock loosened and he came, shooting up onto his mate's chest and felt it warm and slick as it fell back onto his fevered skin. Spent and sated, his satanic features retreated from his core until he lay there panting in his human guise once again.

Maltheal cooed and crooned as the silky fingers of his power smoothed over his mate’s flesh while Snake changed, accepting and understanding the ferocity that claimed him as his passion peaked and soothing it away once he’d finished. He leaned forward, feathered wings falling in around them as he shifted, rolling the both of them over so that he could cradle his mate against his chest while his manhood continued to throb dully inside him, firmly knotted in place. He stroked his fingers through the damp silvery locks of Snake’s hair and down his back soothingly, coaxing his mate’s mouth to his pale, scarred throat in offering. He knew how badly his love needed the sanguine fluid beneath his flesh, more so after the battle they’d fought and the prolonged denial of his desire previously. It was not something often allowed by a being such as himself, but to his precious mate, it was freely given without thought. Even so, as always, his love hesitated. 

“Come now Poppit, lemme take care o’ ya proper,” he prodded huskily, no discernible hint of anything other than utter devotion and adoration in the low, breathy words. There was no need for shame or fear; Maltheal had never once looked upon his mate with disdain or malice. And why should he? All facets of the hybrid were beautiful, including the vicious ones and they belonged to him as much as they did his lover. Even had his mate torn into him in his more primal form, he would not be unmade, could not be. Death had nothing to fear, after all, but it would hurt his lover to see the aftermath and so he never argued when Snake wished to be restrained. That did not mean he would starve him. His mate was ashamed of that side of himself, conscious and insecure about the lack of control he had over it, often trying to deny its needs though his efforts were futile and only caused him further discomfort the longer he fought the hunger. As always, Maltheal was patient, coaxing and comforting, tender as he spoke and caressed his skittish mate, humming his honest appreciation and affection when he finally felt the first tentative prick of fang on flesh. 

Though the infernal evidence had faded from his outward appearance, Snake’s bloodlust had only ebbed slightly, the call of his mate’s vital fluid was too strong, the sweetened ambrosia-like essence too potent to resist, so that when Maltheal offered, as he always did, sincere and honest through their bond, he only hesitated a moment before plunging his fangs into the flesh that had been made weaker and softer for his benefit. The first pull on Maltheal’s blood made him dizzy with excitement and desire, this intimate display was as heady and as enjoyable as the orgasm that had claimed his true nature. His mouth only left the fresh puncture marks for the span of a breath before he wet his lips, let the blood burn through him, then smolder at his core. He shivered with each trace of his tongue over the keen little bumps that protruded from the wound, trying to seal itself, but he bit down a little harder, sinking his teeth in a little further with a carnal moan rising in his throat. He held his mate, was cradled, loved and cared for in spite of his nature so that each time Maltheal gave of himself, their bond strengthened and Snake was reminded of what little he had to offer his mate in return.

Maltheal stroked long fingers through his mate’s hair fondly, tenderly as Snake gave in to the hunger, broke his flesh and found solace in his blood, taking what he needed. The sanguine fluid was replenished the moment it left his body without pause or preamble, his power a shadowed and bittersweet undercurrent in the divine liquid, affording his mate only the very best of sustenance to soothe the predator that craved inside him. “Ther’s a good boy,” he cooed breathily, lolling his head to the side to provide his mate with more access to the pale column of his throat, not at all concerned with the vulnerability of the act. He could feel the vague echoes of his mate’s insecurities and self deprecation in their bond and so held him tighter while his darlings slithered around them, finding their own niches to take in the spaces around where the couple lay entwined, clearly wanting to remain close and provide their own form of comfort. The reaper inhaled a slow deep breath, releasing it just as slowly, his fingertips still threading repeatedly through the silky fine locks while the other had begun to draw lazy pictures over his lover’s back, pausing intermittently to stroke and knead at the sensitive protrusion of his shoulderblades where his wings were hidden beneath his human flesh. 

“Did ya know tha’ unlike the humans an’ angels me brother created, he an’ I weren’t promised any soulmate, weren’t’even t’ be capable o’ such? Yahweh an’ I made th’ others, but didn’ ‘ave no part in creatin’ ourselves, not even sure wherein we was born from, been so long ago now, we couldn’ change t’was already written. So we made our own creations wit’ th’ things we craved fer ourselves. I had thought iff’n I only watched love, saw it recycled over’n’over, guided a soul or two from time ta time, it’d be ‘nough. Ther were flaws though, terrible, ugly flaws and Yahweh didn’ see reason ta correct ‘em an’ I mighta agreed wit’ ‘im once, but not now an’ not then. Some o’ his children became unruly an ya well know ‘ow ‘e punished ‘em. Asmodeus was always me favourite nephew, still is an’ it was as I watched ‘im fall after Yahweh forsook th’ love ‘e’d fin’lly been granted fer ‘imself after all the time ‘e spent sewing it in th’ ‘arts o’ others tha’ I knew. ‘E was betrayed an’ ‘e was lonely. ‘Is grief was consolable, but denied an’ ‘e lost ‘is faith without ‘is lover at ‘is side,” Maltheal paused in his storytelling, shifting beneath his mate as his knot deflated finally and he could free himself to curl more comfortably around Snake, protective and coveting. 

“T’was jus’ then I knew both envy an’ empathy in meself. It ached an’ I came ta realize I was as lonely ‘as ‘e’d been before ‘e’d found ‘is mate an’ even moreso after’n ‘e was stolen from ‘im. But I wasn’ meant ta ‘ave one o’ me own, wasn’ meant ta know th’ passions, th’ madnesses, hollows, pride, an’ peace, wasn’ ta feel th’ longing or th’ joy in th’ flesh o’ a lover. An’ I wa’ angry fer Asmodeus an’ fer me. Long time I wen’ away fer, searchin’, but not knowing wha’ I was lookin’ fer. An’ it was so sudden, so strong, an’ so consumin’ when I found wha’ it was I’d been seekin’ tha’ I knew I’d‘ve been as mad wit’ grief as me nephew was iff’n I ever lost it. An it was then I knew I ‘ad ta right th’ selfish mistakes o’ me brother. No creature should live without ther love; tha’s no life worth livin’. I wasn’ ‘til I learned it meself. I only knew death ‘til you gave life new meanin,’” he finished, voice hushed like it was a secret, a soft spoken confession made in assurance. His mate thought himself unworthy, undeserving and inadequate, unable to give of himself equally as he deemed what he’d been given. But he was wrong. Maltheal had not known life before he’d met him and for a gift so wondrous, there was no price that could be rendered equal. Love lived without permission or recompense and without end even in death; it was eternal.

If he was the serpent, then his mate was the charmer; handling him at his most dangerous, soothing and hypnotizing him with his voice like music. And nothing pacified and softened Snake and his companions quite like Maltheal’s stories. His lover was an expert chronicler, an even better raconteur, captivating, enticing and able to weave details elegantly, so that when he’d begun, the story had silenced the echoed pounding of blood in Snake’s ears. He pulled away from his neck, so perfect as it arched back, the starlit strands of his hair falling away to show two perfect holes at the base of his throat. His forked tongue laved the claiming marks of any residual blood, then removed any excess from his own lips. He leaned into Maltheal to hear his words reverberate in his chest as he lay there smiling and satisfied, warm in his arms, soft winged feathers providing safety, shelter and comfort, their legs entwined as he fingered the sleek braided strand hidden in the reaper’s hair. “But neither your nephew nor his mate remembers…” He took out the band that held the plait together and unravelled it, admiring the the resulting waves rippling like a billowing cloud, “Until now… Is that why you instructed me to allow Pride to touch Phantomhive, to have my lovelies restrain him were he to resist? You knew… you predicted Morning Star to act in such a manner?”

“So I did Poppit. How clever ya’re t’ave figured me out. Lucifer ‘as always been such a nasty lil git, always wantin’ wha’s not ‘is and playin’ th’ most vicious games ‘e can. ‘E’s always up ta no good. I ‘ad no doubt ‘e would try somethin’ o’ that ilk soon as I ‘eard Asmodeus ‘ad wed ‘is lil Phantom. Saves me some effort though since Luci ‘as always been particularly good wit’ memories, even th’ uns we can’t or would rather’n remember. Cruel sense o’ humour ‘e has like his father. Yahweh punished ‘is angels fer falling in lots o’ ways, but forgetting their love an’ mates ‘as ta be the worse o’ it. ‘Specially when ‘e was th’ un responsible for ole Sebby’s fall in th’ firs’ place. Selfish git, too busy playin’ wit’ ‘is favourite children and neglectin’ th’ others when they’d been needin’ ‘im. S’not fair wha’ ‘e did ta ‘em an’ I’m jus’ ‘elpin’ ‘em along’n fixin’ it,” the reaper answered with a pleasant and broad smile, lazily tracing his hands over skin and scale as Snake’s stroked over his own and through his long hair. He purred encouragingly as he finished speaking, “Ya sure were somethin’ else today though Poppit. ‘Ad my blood racin,’ Ya did. Thank ya fer all ya done aidin’ me in this. I don’ think I coulda done it without ya.”

Snake shook his head and looked down, unable to meet Matheal’s eyes at the unnecessary thanks and praise. He should be used to the adoring tone, shouldn’t flush scarlet every single time he was praised for going along with one of Maltheal’s plans; didn’t his lover know he would follow him with blind devotion? “It’s you that was something,” he said gruffly into his lover’s skin, “You were everything, _are_ everything.” He pressed several kisses onto his lover’s milky flesh, tracing the scars with a soft, gentle tongue as discontent and disquiet mounted at his core when he considered something the hadn’t before, that Ciel, who could almost be counted as a friend now, might suffer in the process. “The memories Lucifer unlocked will hurt Phantomhive, won’t they? Might that cause some trouble? You’re not at all worried?”

“Ta ya, I may be everthin’, but ta me, ya’re th’ un tha’s everythin’ Poppit,” Undertaker began, giving his mate a squeeze, smile wide and fond on his mouth, watching the colour spread over his lover’s skin and flood through the opalescent scales in a flattered blush, continuing a moment later to answer Snake’s inquiry, “I ‘magine some o’ th’ memories’ll ‘urt, but ta know yer love is worth it, don’ ya think? If it were ya, wouldn’t ya wanna remember me Poppit, even iff’n it ‘urts?”

Snake nuzzled into the crook of Maltheal’s warm neck, felt his chest rise and fall, then mumbled into the skin where the pulse beat a melodic cadence. “There is no darkness dark enough, no torture agonizing enough that would make losing the memory of what we’ve shared not worth enduring.” His body was tired. His spirit was tired. He could feel the weight of all the brothers and sisters he’d killed today protecting the Phantomhive heir pressing down upon him, and while he reveled in his mate’s warmth, he and his companions would not find sleep this way. “Mm… Mal, too hot…. can’t sleep like this…”

Maltheal chuckled at the vaguely petulant and demanding tone of his mate’s voice, acknowledging the implied command with an idle hum. He stroked long, soot stained and scarred fingers through the fine strands of his lover’s hair, cooling his own body temperature to something a number of degrees chillier as was usual when they rested together, accommodating his lover and his little darlings unique needs without complaint. He felt Snake’s serpent companions curl and coil closer in the places they had snuck around them in the bedding and smiled as his lover, like them, furled closer on his chest, a soft contented sigh of relief washing against his skin as Snake’s silvery lashes fluttered closed and slumber swiftly set in with the lowered temperature. Undertaker closed his own eyes and quietly sung the words of a favoured [ ode](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScP5Nv-EhZI) as his loves slept peacefully in his cool embrace. He did not join them in their dreams as Death did not rest.


	25. Bloodline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral: Blood is thicker than water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies,
> 
> Thank you for all the continued support! We hope you all enjoyed last weekend's interlude and the aside we released earlier this week. Things are going to get a little rocky from here on in so buckle up!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Haunted by Beyonce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0k_i8PPM40)
> 
> Ciel~ [ Sweet Dreams by Jewel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65JjWc9Zo9U)

There was the distinct sound of shattering glass on stone as a Venetian crystal vase made impact with the wall of Belial’s quarters at the Vatican. The demon sneered and continued pacing furiously for several steps before his rage overtook him and he hurled another piece of decor across the room to shatter satisfyingly against the wall. He growled and mumbled under his breath manically, his dark red hair whispering through the air as he moved with irritated purpose. 

“My my, someone’s in a mood,” Lucifer drawled as he made himself comfortable in the windowsill, watching the other male pace back and forth.

“How dare he! Arrogant little mortal, doing what he pleases. Takes Asmodeus as his husband. Pits our brothers against one another. Belphegor nearly devoured Asmodeus. And ended up devoured himself. I want that Phantomhive slut dead! I want him writhing in agony on a spit. Peel him apart piece by piece...” Belial’s voice was sharp and shrill, hands moving wildly, slashing through the air, tense and clawed as he ranted.

Lucifer clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval, “Patience, you’ll have your vengeance soon enough. Mammon is where you suggested. It’s only a matter of time now. Belphegor should have abstained and perhaps he’d still be with us. At least he provided a convenient diversion.” He laughed breathily, tapping a fingertip against his lips before he continued, watching Belial slow his pace and narrow his glittering gaze at him. He smiled amusedly as he spoke further, “I gave the little bug a special gift, removed the barrier and returned his memories, _all_ of them. The poor thing is no doubt already struggling… By the time he returns home, Mammon will already have spread through his dear mother. Such a shame we won’t be there for the homecoming; it’s bound to be _heartwrenching._ ”

***

Ciel wasn’t sure how many hours had passed when he reluctantly relinquished his hold on the small child curled into his side in the backseat of the Maserati, but before Poe could move away, he planted a gentle, affectionate kiss on the finely tapered onyx hair, inhaling the familiarity of the heady scent. He kept his eyes shut, trying to prolong the dream he’d had, or was it a memory like the others had been? He was still too groggy to tell the difference between them; all he knew was that he had wanted to drag out the sensation of having been tenderly cradled, comforted and kept warm. He stretched as he sat up, his stiff joints cracking and popping a little as a bead of sweat slipped from the delicate curls under his mop of thick navy hair, dampening the neck of his soft linen shirt. Okay, maybe he’d been a bit too warm and comfortable, he was definitely going to need a shower, perhaps Sebastian would be amenable...

He groaned as he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror, hair like a rat’s nest and the tiniest of stubble on his face. It was only when he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands that he took notice that they were parked out in front of Phantomhive Manor, some hundred feet away. Was his mother having a party? Why were there some fifty exotic cars parked haphazardly in the front yard, barring their access to the main entrance or the side garage where he normally kept his car? And where had those gaudy fountains bolstering a dozen or so dancing cherubs pouring water from bronze-coloured vases come from? His mouth curled downwards in distaste before he set his eyes on Sebastian who’d still not said a word, but appraised him and their surroundings, narrowing his garnet eyes in careful suspicion. Ciel laced his arms around his love’s neck, smiling as his lips moved against it, “Mmm, we’re rather far away from home _husband dearest_ , and I still feel so weak; any chance you could be persuaded to carry me?” 

“Me too, Sebastian! I’m so tired too!” Poe echoed bouncing excitedly from the backseat, betraying his former claim, “I want a piggy-back ride to the Manor!”

Sebastian hummed appreciatively as Ciel wrapped his arms around the back of his neck and pressed his mouth to the soft column, his own hands slipping around the other male without conscious thought, squeezing at his waist momentarily before he scooped him into his arms. He cradled his lover against him, baring Ciel and his familiar’s sudden weight at his back as well, sighing and shaking his head vaguely, though he didn’t refuse either of them and instead made his way towards the front entrance. A small smile ghosted his lips as Ciel clung to him and snuggled against his chest and Poe hummed happily while dangling from his back, swinging his feet childishly and peeking over Sebastian’s shoulder at Ciel, giving him a wide toothy grin when he caught his eye. 

As Sebastian stepped passed the new fountain additions to the garden and the multitude of vehicles, he eyed them with suspicious interest. It seemed an awful lot of large purchases even for a grieving woman, but humans were odd creatures, prone to strange behaviours when emotionally charged in any way. He cast a wary glance around as he reached the door, being sure no prying eyes were watching them before he compelled the door open and carried his cargo inside without hesitation, stopping short in the foyer and blinking at the exorbitant decor that now decorated all the surfaces within the space. 

“Wowwww, lookit all this stuff! Where’d it all come from?” Poe observed, peering over his master’s shoulder with wide, curious eyes. 

“The Internet, mostly,” Rachel responded gliding her hand down the polished banister of the elegant grand staircase as she descended. “What else was I supposed to do to bide my time when I'm left to grieve alone while my son is off galavanting with the very demon who is responsible for having eaten my late husband’s soul?”

Ciel winced then wriggled in Sebastian’s arms until the demon loosened his grasp enough for him to slide down and stand. His eyes widened at the sight of his mother, scantily clad in a shimmering barely-there bikini, six inch golden stilettos, daintily holding a champagne flute filled to the brim. Following her on long leathered leashes were half a dozen men, no older than himself, chiseled chests well-oiled, wearing matching black speedos. Each of them carried various objects: a large plush towel, a silver tray with two champagne bottles, a plate of exotic fruit, a crystal decanter holding what looked like thick, syrupy oil, a second silver tray with an array of sex toys and a silk robe. 

Ciel averted his gaze, embarrassed by this display and seriously confused by the simple fact that they had no indoor pool, jacuzzi or sauna on site. “Mom, I was at work… I’m not allowed to refuse, otherwise I would have, you know that…” he said with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach awakened by his guilt at having abandoned her to her grief. 

Rachel neared the boy, towered over him in her heels, saw the purple marks that ornamented the pale skin of his neck and collar and wrinkled her nose in disgust as she sniffed him. “If you say so, Ciel, darling. Now if you’ll excuse me, the eight-person jacuzzi is waiting; were I you, I wouldn't come interrupting this time.” She patted his head condescendingly and stalked off towards the back of the house with her entourage.

“But we don't have a jacuzzi…” Ciel trailed off, his voice losing volume with every spoken word. He turned to Sebastian, extending his arms to Poe to lower him to the ground and made his way to his bedroom holding the familiar’s hand, his stress obvious in the stiffness of his movements. “See what I mean, Sebastian? It's not right… this can't be only grief can it?”

Sebastian had watched Rachel’s procession and the uncharacteristic interaction between mother and son, his wine-coloured eyes narrowed and sharply scrutinizing, suspicious and calculating. He could sense nothing out of the ordinary with the woman, though that did not mean it was impossible for there to be something amiss. He couldn’t imagine what motivation any being would have aside simply preying on the grieving woman, perhaps in retribution, but more likely simply as sustenance. Even so, Rachel Phantomhive was a well-protected woman and he doubted there was much interest from his higher kin to pursue her when he and his mate had been causing such a stir elsewhere. It would be rather impossible for any lowly lesser of his kin to worm their way close enough to his lover’s mother. Surely he would sense _something_ if any had.

Nonetheless, he would keep an eye on the woman, her odd new company and habits, just in case. He followed after Ciel and his familiar a step or two behind the pair, answering as honestly as he could as they ascended the stairs to Ciel’s quarters, “I can’t say sweetling, there’s nothing particular that I can sense. It is odd for her usual character, but grief can make us something else than what we believe ourselves to be.” He did not know how best to comfort Ciel, aware his mate was suffering under his own guilt and the apparent malice of his mother, but the only remedy that came readily to mind was time. But time did not make the wait less painful, of that, he had no doubt.

He released an inaudible sigh, pressing a soothing hand to the young man’s lower back and using it to guide him to the ensuite bathroom once they had stepped into Ciel’s room. “Give it some more time my love, perhaps try to speak with her privately in a few days. Come now, a good soak will help to relax you,” he prompted, moving with familiarity to turn on the taps and fill the tub with steaming water. 

Poe let go of Ciel’s hand and bounced excitedly, already beginning to enthusiastically strip off his clothing, cheering, “Me too! Me too!” He was struggling to remove his undershirt, small limbs tangled in the fabric as he peered at Ciel and continued to try to remove the article without much success, “Can we have bubbles too mistress? Can we? Can we? I’ve never had a bubble bath before!” Sebastian merely shook his head, already preparing the fragrant oils and milky bubble bath into the water before his familiar had even begun speaking, pleased enough for Poe to distract the mortal from his own distraught.

Ciel snickered as he took a knee before the little boy whose head was lost from sight in a tangle of shirt, his arms sticking up at odd angles. He gently pulled the garment back into place until he came face to face with Poe’s large excited eyes, and started unbuttoning the shirt with some difficulty as the child kept squirming and wiggling with barely contained enthusiasm. He resisted the urge to draw the little one in, overcome with, well, he wasn’t quite sure what they were, memories? dreams? fantasies? “I think I’ll take a shower instead,” he said inclining his head towards his mate, smiling suggestively. 

Poe frowned a moment before he perked up and clapped his hands, “Oh! Can I watch you shower again? That was fun!” 

“No!” Ciel exclaimed a little too loudly, his voice going up an octave in awkward embarrassment. The last time the familiar had seen him in the shower he’d been in his raven’s form, and Ciel had been… _missing his mate_ , “but I’ll keep you company while you get clean, Poe,” he amended, placating the boy who had a wicked cheeky grin plastered to his face. He picked him up and carefully lowered him into the soaker tub then dragged a small stool over to wash the grubby little face with a plush cotton cloth. 

Poe was undeterred by the change of plans, let himself be cleaned, arched his neck when told to look up, turned his head from side to side to have his ears washed, and shut his eyes when Ciel dumped water onto his head to lather his hair with a pleasant honey-lavender scented shampoo. He made a show of holding his breath when he went under water to rinse his hair and had to be hoisted back up into a sitting position by a frantic Ciel when he’d stayed under too long for what was considered safe for mortals. He continued to splash happily about the bubbles, thoroughly soaking the bathroom floor and his mistress as he hummed the familiar tune his master routinely sung to Ciel. 

Ciel had been rummaging through the cupboard under the nearby sink to find the small basket of toys he’d played with in the bath as a child, when Poe’s rendition of the familiar lullaby found its way to his ears. Of course the the little boy would know the song, he’d heard it enough times in the past forty-eight hours to have committed it to memory; but had he known it before then? Like fifteen years earlier, when he’d cradled the young heir in an attempt to sooth him in the small cage? The question burned in Ciel’s mind and he was desperate to voice the query to make sense of what he’d recently been reliving, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he’d mistaken fantasy for reality. He found the small basket and brought it back to the tub, kneeling beside it and adding a small tug boat, a rubber duck and a variety of plastic aquatic creatures to the water for the little boy’s entertainment. “Eddie?” he asked hesitantly to see if the familiar would respond to that name.

Sebastian had collected the clothing from the floor, slipping out of the room for a few moments to get some fresh, comfortable pajamas for the two mucking about in the tub. He hadn’t missed the look his mate had given him when he mentioned the shower and had found himself smiling and humming pleasantly. He was perfectly content to be patient until Poe had been seen to and was hopefully asleep or entertained again before he and Ciel would bathe together. He also remembered the time Poe had watched Ciel in the shower, though at the time, he had been in no state to properly appreciate the sight when he had been viewing it through the eyes of his familiar. There was a warm stir inside him, but he didn’t encourage it any further than the idle thoughts of massaging and doting on his mate in the steamy stall as he pawed through drawers in search of something that would fit the child appropriately; the familiar would be returned to his avian form soon enough, but until then, something simple and comfortable would be adequate to keep him modest. 

Poe didn’t look up from what he was doing as he drove ducks and boats through the mountainous bubble terrain while he replied, voice quiet and without any particular inflection, “I like Poe better.”

Ciel’s eyes widened fractionally at the familiar’s subtle acknowledgement of his former moniker and was both relieved and saddened by the realization. If the images he’d been getting were indeed memories, it meant he’d grossly misjudged his father. For all the imposed obligations and responsibilities he’d burdened him with, the man had tried to remove his family from their dynastic obligation. “Jesus…” Ciel cursed under his breath, a wave of fresh guilt rushing over him and he did his best to ignore it, instead focusing on the bubbles in his hands that popped among the foamy soapsuds. 

But he’d been awake for his recollections of Poe; it was near impossible for someone to remember as far back as three years of age wasn’t it? Perhaps this last recollection was a dream and nothing more; after all, he hadn’t been conscious at the time. He could make peace with his father’s desire to not serve the Vatican, would, after eighteen years, feel he had at least one thing in common with Vincent. But the idea that he had made himself an enemy to his only son in an attempt to cultivate a hatred so intense that it would damn their relationship permanently and inadvertently make Ciel oppositional enough find a loophole in the contract to finally be able to leave that life behind was unforgivable. It was indefensible and shameful only in that it was an act of such pure love and unselfishness that ached in Ciel that he would never have the chance to repay his father in kind or demonstrate that kind of devotion to any of his own offspring. For that reason, he hoped for once not to receive the answer he sought. 

“Sebastian,” he whispered, lowering his head and knowing his mate would be able to hear him from his chambers, “When did we first meet in person? Tell the truth.”

Sebastian heard his name, felt it like a physical pull and was drawn, compelled back to the ensuite, back to Ciel. He stilled as his mate made his inquiry, blinking slowly, caught off guard, feeling as though he were being accused, but of what, he couldn't be quite sure. He set the clothing he'd collected on the countertop and moved silently closer to Ciel, crouching before him and reaching to cup his cheek, not quite certain what to make of his mate's change in mood. 

Deep sanguine garnet eyes met his lover's and he did not look away as he spoke soft and slow, "You were too small to remember then, a mere babe of some months old. You were frightened; I soothed you... Why do you ask sweetling?"

Ciel shook his head as he stood from the tub and wiped his wet hands unnecessarily on his already sodden clothes. Sebastian had as good as confirmed the dream as fact. “Though you were forbidden from seeing me, isn’t that right? How many times did it happen after that?” He was slightly agitated, something was gnawing at his memory, just slightly out of recall, was alerting him to the fact that there was more to that singular recollection. It wasn’t that he thought Sebastian had kept the information from him with any kind of malicious intent, because he _had_ been frightened, he _had_ been comforted by his mate, even before their bond had been forged. It was the longing he had felt as an infant that confused him, how could any child have yearned for a demon? “Forget that last question; tell me _why_ you disobeyed orders. _Why_ was it so important for you to come to me?”

The fallen exhaled a heavy breath, following his mate, reaching for him instinctively, drawing him back, needing to soothe, to console and comfort him, rubbing his thumb over the pale curve of Ciel's warm cheek. He did not have all the answers to his lover's questions, but he was compelled not only by their contract, but by the desperation in his mate's desire to know, to understand that which was beyond even Sebastian's understanding. "I don't know why sweetling. I wanted to see you, to know you. I'd spent months listening to your heart beating in your mother's womb and I had felt as if I'd been waiting eternities to feel it. I did not see you often, only when you were afraid for your life and when you came to me yourself. Your father did not want you to know me, but I sent Poe in my place. I was always watching, always waiting. I have no answer as to why it was you, of all your kin I'd been enslaved to generations before and all the mortals even before then that I had come to know, only you ensnared me so and still you do. Perhaps it is because there is heaven in you sweetling, because you taste of Eden and smell like home, or perhaps it's destiny, fate or simply some happy coincidence, I do not know, but I can with unwavering honesty say that I will forever be grateful for receiving you. I've no doubt that you were meant to be mine from your very conception," he answered as truthfully as he was able, ignoring the vague gagging sounds his familiar made from within the confines of the tub, his gaze unshifting from the young man before him.

Ciel nodded unconsciously as Sebastian spoke, drinking in all his sweet words, feeling their truth in their bond and easing his tension. The demon might have been able to ignore the little sounds coming from the tub, but Ciel hadn't been, “That's enough out of you,” he admonished the little boy in a playful tone as he lifted him out and wrapped him in a large towel. He felt for Sebastian at this very moment, knew that he was all over the place with his moods, from his anxiety about his mother’s erratic behaviour, his guilt over his father and now his confusion over these memories. He tended to the familiar before addressing his master, towel drying Poe’s hair then dressing him in the soft linen nightshirt set out by Sebastian. “Get into bed,” he gently ordered the child before kissing him affectionately on the cheek and turning to his mate, taking him by the hand and leading him back into the ensuite, shutting the door behind him. 

Poe huffed but did as he was told, tucking himself into Ciel's bed and nuzzling into his pillow. He closed his eyes and tuned out the muffled sound of voices in the ensuite as he relaxed into the bedding and waited for the welcomed embrace of slumber. 

“I saw Lucifer at the auction…” Ciel spoke softly as his fingers worked the buttons of Sebastian's shirt.

"I had suspected you might have. I caught a glimpse of him as he was making his escape. Did he... He didn't harm you, did he?" Sebastian answered as Ciel's nimble fingers undressed him and his own moved to do the same for his mate, concern in his tone, though he knew that had Lucifer done anything to harm his lover, he would have felt it in their bond. He did not want his mate anywhere near his brother, wary regardless of what the elder fallen had or had not done; Lucifer was playing a game of which only he knew the rules and Sebastian knew Pride did not play fairly.

“No, I don't think he did… he said he wanted to give me a…” Ciel trailed off. He'd wondered at first what it was that Lucifer had gifted him and as he hadn't considered temporary blindness a blessing or a present, was at a loss for what exactly he'd done; but memories… that made sense, especially with all the conflicting, somewhat painful emotions they had roused. Still, they wouldn't be one hundred percent reliable given the source, would they? He was lost in thought and barely registered his trousers pooling at his feet. He abruptly snapped out of his reverie to give Sebastian a small smile and relieved him of his pants, trying to conceal his overt preoccupation by changing the topic once again. “So, that was one _hell_ of a fight wasn't it? How long have you known about my being able to do… that thing?”

Sebastian hummed, still concerned, but realizing Ciel's own confusion over what exactly Lucifer had done through their bond. He didn't press him further, following the change in topic instead. "It was certainly one hell of a skirmish. As for what you did... I didn't know you would be able to wield your blood like that, though I did know that you, like all Phantomhives before you carry divinity within. Its what makes for such successful exorcists in your lineage and what lured me into the trap that bound me to your ancestors all those years ago. Didn't you know Christ had a son? And that his lineage had carried on?" Sebastian replied, letting his trousers and undergarments fall to his feet and stepping out of them as the shower turned on of seemingly its own accord.

“Wait! Wait!” Ciel sputtered as he put a hand out to Sebastian’s chest, “You mean to tell me that I'm some long distance relative of Jesus Christ? That I carry, in my veins, the blood of the Almighty?!” Oh please, heavenly great great great… grandrelation... let at least one damned thing go right this week! Was that what Snake had meant by there being one of the ingredients present at the auction? Did everyone seriously know but him?

Sebastian blinked, a decidedly amused curl to the corner of his lips as he answered while coaxing his mate into the already steam-stained glass enclosure of the shower, "How else would your family have such a relic as the genuine shroud in which Christ had been adorned upon his death in their possession? It's been passed down generations for millennia now my love. And how else could they have enslaved a mortal sin for so long as I've been captive if not for the blood they use to bind me? You really didn't know?"

Ciel gaped at his lover, the warm water under which he'd been placed hardly a distraction from what he'd only just learned. “Clearly I didn't! I never really thought about it though… to be honest, I thought it had been a momentary lapse of attention on your part. You know, demon of Lust, thinking with the wrong head and all...” Ciel was elated, felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. That damned Undertaker, he knew all along, had to complicate things for him on purpose! No matter, he wouldn't let that detail detract from this small victory. 

He picked up the soft sponge from his shower caddy and applied a generous amount of the soap he'd used to wash Poe to it. He stepped into Sebastian's space and tilted his head up to look at him properly, admiring the sharp, defined planes of his body. He wrapped his arm bearing the sponge around him so that he could leave small soapy circles on his back as he kneaded his side with his unoccupied hand. His lips pressed reverent open-mouthed kisses along the fallen’s chest, content to push away the world outside the shower. “I liked taking care of you, you'll have to let me pamper you more often,”

A purr rumbled pleasantly in the demon's chest as Ciel's hands moved over his flesh with tender familiarity. His own hands slid up and down his mate's sides appreciatively, soaking up and returning the intimate attention in kind. "Mm, I should certainly have no complaints if you did butterfly. I will never have enough of your touch," he said, tilting his head so that he could meet Ciel's lips with his own, wet strands of ebony plastered to his neck and forehead as the water sluiced over them in a steady stream. "I appreciate all you did for me. It is no easy feat to satisfy sins such as I and my kin," he murmured against Ciel's mouth before he nipped and lapped at his bottom lip ticklishly.

Satisfied with the work he made of washing Sebastian’s back, Ciel brought the sponge to the demon’s chest as he stood on the tips of his toes to force their mouths together. He parted his mate’s lips eagerly with his own and breathed into him, compelling Sebastian to swallow the appreciative moan that had made its way from Ciel’s throat. He pulled back with a sheepish expression, twisting and contorting the sponge to release its silky soft lather over the hard, yet smooth skin of his lover, then discarded the sponge altogether opting to use his hands instead. “Yes, well I certainly owed you as much for having practically ordered you to confront you brother; I don't know what I was thinking. I _wasn't_ thinking…” His hands slid over Sebastian's taut stomach, his chest, his shoulders; he couldn't tear his gaze away from the way the demon's muscles relaxed and tensed under his fingers, how the suds accumulated momentarily in their descent in the dips of his undulating, tightly defined abdominal muscles and into his navel before arrowing down to the sculpted deep “V”-cut…

He cleared his throat, finally looking up at the amused expression on his lover’s face, as he was lured against the heat of Sebastian’s body, pressing his newly pulsing and jutting length against the demon’s thigh. “Ugh! Stop being so infuriatingly tempting! I only wanted to wash you and care for you in the way you usually do for me and you’re making it nearly impossible!”

Sebastian’s husky chuckle echoed beneath the static of the shower spray, the sound honest and affectionately amused as he palmed Ciel’s pert backside and drew him in to press his own length alongside his little lover’s. He purred gutturally, his wings unfurling from his back, water beading and rolling off the inky feathers as they enshrouded them against the wall. “I’m afraid it’s impossible. It’s you that has inflamed me sweetling, I’ll never have enough of you,” he murmured as he leaned in to take Ciel’s lips in a hungry kiss, humming appreciatively when slim fingers curled tightly in the wet strands of his hair and a clever tongue teased along the serrated sharpness of his teeth.

“You’re insatiable,” Ciel answered ironically in a muffled tone, trying to both speak and devour the demon’s mouth at once, “Mmph… and greedy…” He pressed harder against Sebastian, his hands eagerly touching every inch of his mate that he could manage, coveting the flesh with an avarice he’d seldom ever felt. He grasped the throbbing manhood pulsing violently against his own, rubbed, squeezed and stroked its full length, his fingertips gliding along the prominent and sensitive vein that lined the underside. He pulled back to regard his mate with a naked a possessive aggression that elicited something of a low rumbling from his mate’s chest. “Tell me you’re mine, Sebastian, only mine.”

The demon growled ferally, unwilling to pull his mouth away from his mate’s, refusing to abandon the taste of his tongue just yet; it wasn’t enough. Instead, his answer echoed through their bond, guttural, sinfully dark and hot like his lips on his mates, like the burn beneath his skin, the throb of his cock in Ciel’s fisted hands, _“Yours. Always…”_ His heavy wings shifted and he wrapped his hand around Ciel’s straining shaft, ever so slowly returning the touches he was receiving. 

_”Not good enough,”_ Ciel resounded back through their bond; he needed more than a voice in his head, he wanted to hear it clear and feral, wanted to be excessively possessed by his mate and to possess and claim him in return. His hand left the demon’s heavy cock to brush against his sac, then further… He felt bold, a mixture of entitlement and yearning overcoming him as his fingers made their way between Sebastian’s firm cheeks of his backside, seeking, and prodding clumsily until he came upon it and rubbed against the demon’s tight hole.

A shiver of electricity danced along Sebastian’s spine and he broke away from Ciel’s mouth with a low hiss, his hips rolling into the young man, encouraging the eagerly inquisitive digits to explore further. He was thrilled by the intensity of possessiveness he could sense in his mate, reveling in the assertive demanding in Ciel’s inner voice and his touch. He licked his lips and pressed in again to taste at his mate’s throat, guttural words staining the kiss bruised flesh, “I’m yours sweetling. There can be no others; there’s only you. Yours as you are mine.” As he spoke, his hands moved, one on his lover’s hip in a steadying and guiding grip as his other groped and stroked along their combined lengths with teasing pressure.

***

It was nearly an hour later when the couple emerged from the bathroom, flushed and still damp from the water, both warm and sated and in the mood for a cozy cuddle. Sebastian’s body dried as quickly as always, the access water evaporating in soft tendrils of steam while he brushed Ciel’s hair, noting how its length had grown in the weeks since he’d first taken the contract from his father. It was only mere inches, much like it had only just been weeks, yet it seemed longer, an eternity, though the fallen could find no fault in the span of time; he would have his mate for many more eternities and never tire of running his fingers through his hair or looking into those luminous mismatched depths, of tasting, touching and loving the young man.

Looking at the hooded, sleepy-eyed gaze of his lover, he could not help the fond smile that curled his lips and he coaxed his mate to the already warmed and occupied bed, “Come, I’ll tuck you in. It’s time for dreaming, my love,” he prompted huskily, already turning down the bedding in preparation to receive his mate as his familiar shifted instinctively to make room in the large bed for them. He crawled in behind him when Ciel did not argue and climbed into the bed, and Sebastian curled around him, spooning up against his mate and spreading a protective wing across both he and the sleeping, human-guised familiar, listening to the soothing sound of his mate’s breaths as they evened out moments later, slowed and deep with slumber.

***

_Ciel was on his knees, holding back his long midnight-navy locks in one hand as he doubled over and heaved whatever breakfast he’d been provided in the morning into his mate’s lovely Silver Baccara Rose garden. It had been a terrible idea for him to take a stroll there while he waited for Asmodeus to return; the smell of myrrh and spicy anise, which was usually pleasing, only further upset his sensitive stomach today. He swallowed hard, pulling in deep breaths through clenched teeth to avoid smelling the fragrant flowers as another fierce surge of nausea overtook him, causing his abdomen to seize up in rock hard cramps. For days he’d been left feeling clammy and light-headed and he wondered when the illness would finally subside._

_Asmodeus could both smell the sick and hear Ciel’s retching before he came upon him in the garden. His liquid azure gaze was fondly concerned as he slipped up behind his mate, broad wings tucked closely against his back as he looped his arms loosely about his lover's waist and took over kneading soothingly at the spasming flesh of his vaguely curved belly, palming over it in an attempt to calm the chaos the little life within was causing. He pressed his lips to the back of Ciel’s neck tenderly, voice teasing as he spoke against the flushed milky flesh, “Must be your daughter, making such a fuss.”_

_“If she’s causing this much trouble, she is indeed _her father’s_ daughter.” Ciel countered affectionately as he brushed the side of his face against the coolness of the arms that held him, found the hands that cradled his small belly and entwined his fingers with the angel’s._

_“Perhaps she is; she’s just eager to grow quickly so she can see her _mother_ ,” the angel chuckled, squeezing the fingers tucked between his own affectionately, pride and devotion clear in his words as he spoke them, “I brought you apples from the orchard like you asked love. Come have a rest while I prepare them.”_

_“Mm… you spoil me,” the small mortal sighed contentedly turning to face his mate and tilting his head as a sheepish grin spread across his rose-petal coloured lips. “The apples can wait, I’m not hungry right now and I want to take advantage of what little time we have left…” His gaze left his mate’s impassioned cloudless sky blue eyes only for the span of the fluttering heartbeat within to admire the crown-like luminous halo and vast expanse of wings so white they seemed to emit a pure glow that danced and swayed with the rays of the sun reflecting upon them, “Will this be like a mortal gestation? Nine months?”_

_The divine creature hummed thoughtfully, “I could not say sweetling, perhaps, but perhaps not. It could be shorter. All depends on how impatient our little butterfly is,” he murmured huskily, smoothing his palms up his mate’s soft sides, thumbs gliding along the smooth curve of his growing belly. “Are you nervous?”_

_Ciel closed the distance between them, the small protuberance of a belly rubbing against his mate, his hand reaching to thread lovingly in the long ebony silken locks, “Only when you’re not around, Asmodeus. I know as long as you’re here, I’ll be fine… _we_ will be fine.” He exhaled heavily, yawned and reflexively rubbed his eyes as fatigue washed over him, “Maybe I should rest a little, she keeps me up most of the night, already. Must you leave again or can the love of other mortals wait an hour? Will you hold us until I fall asleep?” He took the angel’s hand and brought it to cradle his smiling cheek._

_“For you my loves, I have all the time in the world,” Asmodeus responded, thumbing lightly over his mate’s smooth cheek. He did not waste more than a moment before he drew his mate into his arms, lifting him with no effort and cradling him to his chest protectively, and carrying him the short distance to the plush moss of their bed beneath the canopy of a massive willow tree, the hushed murmur of the inverted waterfall not so far from where they made their bed comforting and lulling in the distance. He laid his mate back onto the soft earth and curled around him protectively, their child safe and sound, soothed now between them._

_Ciel whined an appreciative sound as he was held, nuzzled his face into the familiar scent of his mate’s warm bare chest and hummed a low, melodic lullaby to the unborn miracle that had sealed their eternal bond._

_Some seconds after his mate's lilting lullaby began, a smoky tone joined his voice in the now familiar notes and a warm hand came to rest over the vague flutter of new life nestled between them. The angel had never felt so whole as he did then and he closed his eyes as his wings settled over them in a silken soft blanket._

***

Ciel woke with a start, his eyes snapping open when his hands had unconsciously moved to feel his soft, flat stomach under the linen nightshirt and found nothing there. He knew a moment of dizzying panic before he was fully awake and came to his senses. Of course there would be nothing there, he thought scowling at the utter absurdity of it, this was clearly Lucifer’s doing, a mere ploy to confuse, frustrate and unsettle him.

He turned to his side with a low grunt, careful to not disturb Sebastian as he gently disentangled himself out of his mate’s hold. The fallen shifted, grumbled something inaudible at the loss of their contact, but did no more as Ciel slipped out of bed, finding his throat quite desiccated, his mouth dry and feeling as though it were filled with sandpaper and sawdust. He walked quietly to the side of the bed occupied by the demon and swept the long fringe from his face before pressing a soft kiss to his temple, “Go back to sleep, I’m just going to the washroom.” Sebastian gave a groggy “Mm…” in answer, followed by something that vaguely sounded like “hurry back”. 

Ciel padded sluggishly to the ensuite running a hand through the stubborn snarls of his hair and untangling them, stopping short of the counter to pour himself a glass of water from the pitcher. He’d only taken a sip when he caught his reflection in the mirror set above the sink along with another pair of oddly gleaming blue eyes. He whirled as he sputtered and choked on the water, furiously blinking tears from his eyes, allowing him to focus on his mother’s form as she neared him and set a gentle, soothing hand upon his shoulder. 

The woman reached out for and gripped Ciel's wrist when he turned towards her, her hand dropping from his shoulder in a fluid motion. Her grip was neither gentle nor violent, but her nails prickled in vicious warning against his skin, should he attempt to pull away from her. She turned away from him without a word and led him out of his chambers, down the hall and the stairs, all the way to the basement door where the lock had been replaced by one for which only she carried the key.

The torches lit up on the walls and the silence was broken only by the crackle of the flames in their sconces and the subtle whisper of their steps. She released his wrist once the close and lock of the door sounded at the top of the stairs, and she slipped over to sit on the remnants of Sebastian's ruined cage, idly swirling a finger through the ash. She did not look at her son as her fingertip drew intricate rune like patterns through the dusty charcoal, and her voice held a note of malicious intent, though she spoke in the guise of a thoughtful tone, "Do you love your mother Ciel?"


	26. Greed Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: Mother knows best
> 
> We're just gonna leave this box of tissues right here in case you need it. And maybe a plate of cookies...  
> Thanks again for all the support! Feedback is always welcomed!
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> **  
>  Music  
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> 
> Sebastian~ [ Empty Gold by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSVQicbrHQo&index=21&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [Shadow Moses by Bring Me the Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJEahE-4juQ)  
> Rachel~ [ My Last Breath by Evanescence](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCI99p02ayU)

No matter what Sebastian said, Ciel wasn’t buying it; _this_ was not his mother, and his suspicion of such was the only reason he was soundlessly going along with being dragged to the basement. He wasn’t sure how the being inside her had managed to confuse his own powerful demon of its identity, but he could only assume that it was powerful in the same way that Lucifer had been to avoid being detected in his own dream while his mate lay beside him in their bed. 

It took all of his restraint to silence the voice that called out to his bonded, even more to not try to exorcise the demon as its back was turned to him, but he feared either recourse would harm his mother. She was in there, counting on him not to lose his head, to save her the way his father would have. That thought alone strengthened his resolve and so he pushed Sebastian out of his mind as he watched his mother sit upon the vestiges of the ruined cage that had served as his mate’s prison. 

He went to her when she’d asked that ludicrous question, dragging his bare feet along the ground, purposefully disrupting whatever symbols she’d put into the ash left behind, proof of his and his mate’s betrothal. “Of course I love you, Mom,” he said, putting a hand on her knee where she sat, his eyes roaming over the pinprick tears she had left on his wrist on their way down to the basement. He knew what was coming, knew as he should have known in the past week that the harsh words hadn’t been her own but that they would be the next to come out of her; she was going to do her damndest to weaken his spirit by speaking truths he’d rather not hear about. It had to be done, and he would have to endure it to get the answers he desired from the infernal thing. “Why do you ask?”

His mother snorted softly, the sound derisive and unsurprised by the answer. “I’m just having a hard time understanding how a son can be so selfish as to bed with a lowly servant while his mother grieves for his father, and still claims to love her. You’re a bright boy Ciel, surely you see the dilemma. I should have known you would grow to disappoint me, just like your father,” she answered, still not looking at him, her unoccupied hand closing over his own on her knee, fingertips freezing and paler than they’d ever been. Her voice held no emotion, the underlying malice simply radiating from her; she didn’t need it in her voice for it to be known. Asmodeus and Ciel were playing house and it was time to put away make believe.

Ciel was glad he'd prepared himself for her words, though they’d still hurt. He'd spent his whole life thinking his father was not only a disappointment but an utter failure only to have learned through his recently acquired memories that he'd been too quick to judge. His mother had known though and would never blaspheme his name in such a way. He ignored the icy touch of her hand and pressed on playing the oblivious, inexperienced heir. “Yes, we all seem to grieve a little differently don't we? Me with my bonded and you with the cars, the art and the men… it's a little excessive, a little greedy, isn't it? Besides, if Vincent was the disappointment you claim, then why grieve for him at all?”

“Perhaps it is, but isn’t it time I get to be a little selfish, a little greedy. I have been the mother, the wife, the silent support behind the Phantomhive name for so long, I’ve forgotten to be myself. How else should I recall who I was if not by reliving it? Surely you can understand that since you’ve become so good at sating yourself. You were always drawn to it, sin… You reveled in it, even as a child. I should have never had you, should have known you would become like this, born into sin; even baptism couldn’t right you. Should have let you rot in my womb, but we all make mistakes, don’t we? And what does God give us if we repent for those mistakes? Salvation? I’ll be forgiven my sins my son, will you? Aren’t you sorry?” she said, finally looking at him, an odd golden tint to her normally cloudless blue eyes as her fingernails dug into the delicate underside of his wrist.

He looked up at the demonic vessel that was his mother’s body and his eyes went slightly unfocused. _It was warm and tight, his little limbs were curled into himself and he had managed to find his mouth again and filled it with his thumb. With only a few weeks left until he would be born to this world, he took pleasure in hearing his mother’s strong heartbeat, the passage of her blood rushing by, the filtered and distorted sounds of lullabies and the rush and rhythm of her voice, melodic and sweet, soft and low, speaking words of worship and love. He was wanted. Had always been._

Just as he remembered hearing her from within, Ciel knew his mother could hear the demon speak from wherever she was being kept inside, knew that the words being spoken were as painful for her as they had been for him. He couldn’t bare causing her more pain than she’d already had to endure by being possessed and he impulsively answered, “I don’t care for God’s forgiveness, and I doubt as a Fallen you’ll have much chance at redemption either.”

The woman tossed her head back and laughed, giggling and giddy like a vicious schoolgirl, one soot tipped hand partially obscuring her mouth in a mockery of etiquette. “Oh darling you have no idea the sins I’ve committed, even just in this _body_. Do you want to know how loose you left it when you clawed your way out of her? Know how she purrs when she’s fucked just right?” She said, abruptly yanking the hand in her grip beneath the hem of her skirt and forcing it up between her thighs, chortling when Ciel made a distressed sound of disgust and struggled to pull his hand from her grasp. She let him go and grinned when he stumbled back several paces, taunting in lilting purred tones, “Come now, give your mother some love. She’s been ever so lonely.”

Ciel’s lip curled in revulsion as he wiped his hand on his nightshirt, sure that no matter how much he washed and rubbed it, his hand would remain tainted by this very act. “You’re fucking sick,” he spat, his throat burning as he swallowed the bitter tang that had risen into his mouth. “I’m giving you this one chance to leave her unharmed. Just. One. If you don’t comply I’ll be forced to relieve you of your existence, Mammon. You’ll make a lovely meal for my mate. You’ve no doubt seen what we’re capable of; you’ve heard of your brother’s demise?”

Mammon examined her lacquered nails idly, disinterested in his threats as darker inked skin flickered beneath the pale palette of his mother’s mortal flesh. She crossed her legs demurely and hummed thoughtfully before she answered, “I’ve heard, but I’m not so stupid as my little brother, nor so eager. I prefer to take my time, get to know my meals inside and out before I take them. If you want her back so badly, why don’t you come take her from me? It’s nice in here you know, so warm and cozy, so needy, so _easy_ ; I might not want to part with her. You can’t save her without your lover. Why don’t you call for him? He’d be ashamed of you, unworthy, wretched little thing, can’t even save his own mother. Pathetic child.”

It was Ciel’s turn to give a derisive snort, “You clearly don’t know your big brother as well as I do then, Greed. My bonded would not feel ashamed of my failings as an exorcist, since he would revel in making himself useful as a devoted servant and lover.” He took a hesitant step towards her, pushing up the sleeves of his nightshirt, fearful that any move he made would result in his mother’s downfall.

Mammon clicked her tongue, tapping one fingertip to her chin skeptically, “Are you so sure about that? You think he likes being held back by you, he enjoys being bound to a creature of so little worth on its own. You can’t save your mother and you can’t save yourself. You can’t save anyone little butterfly; your wings are too delicate to dance in the flames. From what I heard, because of you Asmodeus nearly lost his life, because of your weakness and mortal naivety, he suffered and still he suffers for you, holding back his nature, cautious not for his own life but for yours because you are too fragile to protect yourself. What a faded shadow has my brother become. He’s lost his way; you’ve led him astray, poisoned him with your humanity. Without you, the prodigal son will no doubt find his way home and you’ll be forgotten like all the rest before you. Did you think you were special? How presumptuous of a bug that boasts pretty wings. They may be beautiful, but they are also easily breakable.” She shifted minutely, her eyes flickering and bleeding fully to golden amber, honeyed and false as she looked at the young man without blinking.

Of Sebastian’s devotion, he was certain. That his mate would sacrifice himself to save him, Ciel was also certain; after all, he had done so at least twice in less than a month. “Not only does he enjoy being bound to me, Mammon,” he boasted confidently walking around her as he dragged his large toe in the dust that had settled after the cage had turned to ash, “but he would do so without a covenant. He told me were he not willing to share his immortality with me, he would not have made me his home.” When he came to face her again, it was with a subtle incline of his head, a simpering little smile and a patronizing tone, “It must hurt that he’s chosen a bug over his own family? I mean, that’s a second time for your lot, isn’t it? What, with your own father favouring my kind over yours?”

“Of course he says so now,” Mammon laughed in his mother’s musical way, doubling over as if what he’d said had been the most clever of jokes. “Poor naive little mortal… What of a century, a millenia, more, eternities together, unable to leave even if he’s unhappy? When will it lose its lustre, how long before playing hero becomes less endearing and loving you inevitably becomes a chore, what then little bug? You will own him because you have made yourself his cage and you can call it devotion, but deep inside, you’ll know with the bitter taste of it on your tongue that he despises you. After all, haven’t you already exploited it in the past when it suited you, punished and poisoned him when he had no choice but to obey? Vicious little insect, you are, cornered, and acting out to mask how weak you know you truly are, how inadequate, how undeserving. He already thinks you’re weak, knows you cannot defend yourself; it amuses him to spoil and pamper you for now, but whether tomorrow or a thousand thousand years from now, he will tire of it. After all, what can a mere mortal offer one of the fallen? We are gods in our own right and you are, like your kin, pathetically delicate. Perhaps your blood is a little sweeter, but you’re still fickle, fleeting, and fun for a time, but like your lives, over in an instant,” she said with a harsh snap of her fingers, the sharp sound echoing between the stone walls of the room. She could feel the human essence of her vessel stir, upset by how she was manipulating the boy so, but she hardly noticed the little itch, the little irritation niggling at the back of her neck. The mother wanted to speak.

Ciel lost himself in her acrid, heavy words, burdensome only because they weighed so heavily on his heart. He’d known them to be true deep down, but had buried them deeper since having voiced this concern to Sebastian at the Devil’s Bath some days ago. By their contract, Sebastian could not lie to him, so the mortal had believed the words he spoke; but his mate was only speaking for how he felt _in the moment_ , since even a Fallen could not anticipate how his love might change over the years. An eternity, after all, was an awfully long time and young as Ciel still was, he could barely fathom holding Sebastian’s interest for a singular lifetime. If he were to set his lover free from his obligation, he was not certain that after even a hundred years that his mate would not abandon him or worse, simply stay with him miserable and weakened out of some misplaced sense of duty.

Mammon was trying to distract him, to divert his attention from the task at hand and he regretted that it was working. He shook his head trying to refocus, struggling to steer his mind back to this most important of undertakings. Sebastian had said that even _he_ had not expected him to be able to wield his divine blood in such a way, so he would put his faith in his lineage rather than the holy incantations praising a Creator that had abandoned his children long ago or an Archangel that for some reason, had plagued his nightmares as a young child. 

He took a knee before the demon and never taking his eyes off her, brought the fleshy part of his palm to his mouth and dragged it hard against his eye tooth, letting two drops of blood spill onto the circle he had drawn with his toe as he mumbled an invocation in a language that had died out long before Christ had walked the earth. Icy incandescent flames shot up, trapping the demon within its midst and he walked through them, careful not to disrupt the circle as he stepped over it. 

The moment he did, the temperature dropped significantly in the room, making him shiver and his hair stand on end even beneath his nightshirt. A foul-smelling odor that had not been there moments ago was emitted within the circle, strong and pungent, like milk that had been thrown up and left to sour and curdle where it had spilled. Ciel reflexively swallowed the excess of saliva that always flooded one’s mouth as a prelude to oncoming nausea and took a step closer to his mother, his hand outstretched, hesitating only a moment before he whispered an apology to her and his palm made contact with her forehead. 

Nothing happened. He pushed against his mother’s head where it stayed resolutely in place and he shut his eyes, speaking the words clearly and so loudly they tuned out the roaring flames and echoed in the room, making the incantation seem like it was being recited by a choir.

While she had been distracted inwardly scolding her host, Mammon had not moved much to avoid the exorcist’s attempt to capture and draw her from Rachel’s body. She could feel the tug, but it was like that of a newborn, still hesitant, underdeveloped and meak, lacking the desperation of the last time under the weight of his doubts and unable to provide more than a mild static irritation to the possessor’s body.

“Oh no! Stop, that tickles!” She chortled melodically, giggling like a schoolgirl, tossing her head back and flailing her legs in a childlike manner, limbs awkwardly stiff as she moved. Her host was being a bit stubborn now, riled up by the divine blue flames of her son’s blood, but he could not save her. “You’re making her all excited and after I just got her to sleep as well. Ah well, she’s awake now, wanna feel? Want to know what she’s saying?” she offered with a vicious grin, grasping Ciel’s hand and pressing his ridged palm to her belly just as what seemed to be fingers clawed at the flesh from within, laughing all the while through her wicked grin. 

Her grips tightened, locking him and herself in place as her eyes distinctly flickered between gold and blue, so swift they appeared a poisonous moss green and her mouth twisted in a distorted sneer as though she were having a stroke, lips barely moving as raspy, pitched and desperate words crawled their way from between them, “Ciel… Go… please… please… No more... you can’t… you can’t…” his mother’s anguished voice tapered and faded under the delighted cackling of Mammon’s return.

***

He’d watched from the stable’s shadows as their silhouettes moved from the steamy ensuite to the bedroom. At this point, they were significantly behind schedule as whatever had transpired in the washroom had not been accounted for, though it should have given which two Sins had taken up residence in the manor as of late. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t suppose to interfere, but Willie-Boo was getting quite cross at having to put in overtime, along with the other few dozen reapers that had come along in case the newlyweds decided to put a wrench in the predetermined outcomes.

It didn’t take long for the demon to find himself in bed without his mate and that’s when Grell made his move, slipping silent as death through the unlocked window and crossing the room to stand at the foot of the master four-poster bed. He shrugged off his red overcoat and left it in a heap on the floor as he admired the perfectly carved meat that made up the faultless human specimen that was Sebastian Michaelis. The thin sheet barely covered his god-like body, letting him get a glimpse of the curve of his impressive backside and stunningly well-developed back as the demon lay on his stomach. The bed dipped ever so slightly when the reaper’s knees connected with the mattress; he threw his long red hair over his shoulder and crawled his way to the head of the bed to lay on his side next to the demon. His finger traced a heart at the center of his back and wrote their initials inside before his mouth breathed against the sleeper’s ear, “Bassy… it’s time to wake up, your lover is here and my body is ready for you.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, mind lazy to wake from the nightmare he’d been having. Odd that he should have what could only be considered a nightmare in which he could not reach his lover, though Ciel’s hand stretched desperately for him and he tried to embrace it. He could not; he was losing him. And he had never been so afraid as he was on waking to find his offered lover not the one for which he sought. Ciel was not in bed with him, was not in the room, had not been for some time by the stale scent of him that was easily being overpowered by the sickly sweet scent of the reaper fingering over his naked back. It was _wrong_.

He should have known the moment any other inhuman beings crossed over the threshold of the grounds; the barriers had been tampered with. Of course they had, likely during his incarceration when his brother had paid his lover his first visit. He cursed himself a fool as he pulled himself away from Grell, batting away his groping hands with profound distaste. The reaper shrieked when his familiar came to his aide, no longer disoriented as his master had been. Poe sunk sharp little rows of teeth into the redhead’s shoulder and yanked on his hair to keep himself well plastered to Grell’s back, growling lowly in threat. It would be almost cute to see the childlike familiar in such a pose if not for the panic that was racing through the bond the fallen shared with his mate and the aching desperation that Sebastian felt in response to it. Ciel needed him.

“Se...bas...chan! Help me!” Grell cried as he fumbled and failed to take hold of the vile little creature clinging to his back. “Please darling! Don’t let it hurt my beautiful face!’ He spun in what looked like a wild salsa dance for one trying to dislodge it, knocking over a glass vase, a porcelain lamp and a gilded mirror that hung next to the bed in the process. It cracked as he slammed his back against it, shocking the child into letting him go and shattered the looking glass as it fell to the floor. “Oh no! What horrid placement for such a grand mirror!” he exclaimed with false worry, then lowered his voice to a purr, “Were this my room, Bassy dear, and you my lover, I would hang it above the bed.” He sat at the edge of said bed and patted the spot next to him with one manicured hand, while he beat the child-creature away with both his heeled boots and free hand.

Poe hissed and spat like an angry cat, clawing at the reaper futilely as Grell held him off. Growing frustrated with his inability to further attack the unwelcome reaper, he finally shed his human guise in favour of that of his nature. The clothing he’d been wearing puddled on the floor as the raven swooped past Grell’s flailing limbs and began pulling out his hair and pinching at his clothing and skin with a sharp beak. 

Sebastian shook his head vaguely as he watched the scene, his body already on alert, weaving only the bare minimum of clothing to provide decency on his lower half, accommodating his tail which was lashing back and forth restlessly and like his wings, would not be restrained while he tried to track his mate through their bond, finding it somehow clouded and distorted. He couldn’t be sure if it was the doing of whichever of his kin had taken up residence in the manner or if it was Ciel’s unconscious doing. He was already moving towards the door, completely ignoring the shrill shrieking of Grell’s indignation.

Grell squealed as he took shelter under the bed covers, shielding his perfect red locks from the miserable pest that kept swooping in for a nibble; no doubt the bird was his lover’s familiar and was just as keen to taste any part of him. When he saw the demon make for the door his hand shot out from under the blanket while and he began begging in earnest, “No, Sebas-chan, don’t leave me! I won’t tell William why everything was delayed! I don’t even mind the overtime! Please stay!”

The fallen flipped his hand in Grell’s grip, curling his dark taloned fingers around the reaper’s boney wrist and yanking him out from the bed, ignoring the screech and subsequent low purring encouragement to be as rough as he liked from the redhead. He scowled in disgust, pulling the reaper in as close as he could stand to be near to him and murmured acidically, disdain palpable in his tone, “I don’t know how to make this any more clear to you, you repulse me. Your very existence encourages me to consider celibacy. I’ve no time nor patience to deal with the likes of you tonight.” And with the finishing of the menacing words from his pale, parted lips, Sebastian threw the other male through the large bay window on the far side of the bed, unmoved by the shattering of the glass and tear of the heavy curtained fabric hanging from its frame.

He turned back towards the door as it burst open of its own accord, lifting his hand and snapping his fingers as he stepped over the threshold, only for the window right itself behind him. He did not pause or falter as he moved swiftly through the halls, scenting his mate and following the divinity as vague glimpses and flashes of emotion flickered through the bond he shared with his missing mate, unaware and uncaring as Poe followed after him.

***

Ciel fell hard to his knees before the demon’s vessel, his hands savagely tearing at the dress his mother wore before biting his hands with a vicious ferocity and letting the blood flow freely onto his mother’s belly. He gripped her waist tightly and screamed at her abdomen, his throat hurting with the effort it took to be heard over the excessive cackling, “I won’t leave you! Mom! I can do this! You need to keep trying! ”

He felt taloned fingers grip and cut into the sides of his face as Mammon’s bruising hold tightened on his cheeks and shoved him back with enough aggressive force that he was propelled from the circle onto his rear near the bottom of the stairs. He gave a shuddering groan as he rose unsteadily to his feet and walked feebly to the flamed circle again only to be flung across the room once more, this time making contact with the wall with a crunch, falling onto the old desk and rolling off. “I… can… do this…” he hissed as he made his way back to his mother on hands and knees, blood spilling copiously from his nose since his face had collided with the concrete.

Upon reaching the basement door, Sebastian knew his mate was without a doubt in the damp cell at the foot of the staircase. The door was locked in more ways than one and Sebastian had to apply more force to “pick the lock” than should be necessary. He could already suspect which of his kin was responsible, especially accompanied by the excess of expensive and priceless things that had been accumulated at the manor. He should have known sooner, but he’d thought it was simply human folly, blamed it easily on the grief of mortals and did not realize what barriers had been breached. He should have known Lucifer would not be above using his siblings against him further, using them to attack him indirectly by hurting his mate and the bond between them. This was Mammon’s doing. Now that he had realized his mistake, he could practically taste her. He broke the barrier that had been once protective, but was now veiling the truths within as the lock finally gave way and with a sick coil tightening in his guts, he knew that in all the manor, only Ciel remained uninhabited by his lesser kin. 

Mammon was still laughing, her vicious mirth only adding to the darkness that had taken residence in the basement, obviously enjoying the mortal’s struggle and distraught, revelling in the turmoil she’d bred in him. She sensed it the moment her brother broke the seal Lucifer had so graciously weaved for her upon her arrival at the mansion, and her giggling quieted, though the malicious smirk did not fade from her otherwise pretty mouth. “Finally come to join the festivities, have you Asmodeus? What a shame, you’ve missed out on so much of the fun,” she called, not looking at the staircase as she watched Ciel staggering to his feet and wiping blood from his face. It had been a treat to play with him, but now the real game would begin. 

“It’s been a long time Mammon, what did brother offer you in exchange for your services? Surely, it must be a heavy fee,” came Sebastian’s low voice as he stepped from the staircase shadows and cast a glowing crimson gaze on his sister who wore Rachel’s face and body like a fine costume. 

She laughed, “Oh my no, how naive of you to think it was Luci that paid for my services. You know as well as I do, he’s too proud for that. I’m here returning a favour to another if you must know, or did you forget that you have many more enemies than just our elder brother? The second prince has his fingers in this too, in fact this little encounter was of his design. So deliciously vindictive it is to destroy you through your precious little mortal mate. Belial will be so pleased when he lies broken at your feet.” Sebastian growled in response to the words, his mind making connections he’d not foreseen previously. Not only Lucifer was orchestrating this intricate farce, but another of their older kin had hands in it as well. He should have known, but he’d wanted to believe only his siblings had wanted to play. 

Ciel was glad for the distraction that had come in the form of his lover. While the Sins were bickering he'd managed to penetrate the circle once again, leaving a trail of divine blood behind him that turned to fire before hitting the floor as he crawled towards his mother. He mumbled a nearly incoherent prayer summoning the flames to rise and to disperse before rushing at the possessed body and penetrating the grinning mouth with enough of a punch that they threw its head back. He barely had time to internally celebrate the small victory when a pointed beak pulled roughly at the collar of his nightshirt and dragged him back to relative safety. “Lemme go! I'm not done! Poe stop it! Sebastian… call off your familiar!” he cried desperately resisting the insistence of the raven.

Even if Sebastian could have called off his familiar, he wouldn’t have. His mate was putting himself in far too much danger and he could not blame Poe for his intervention. The young man was clearly too distraught to be properly thinking through his actions, the volatility of his emotions making his divinity erratic at best and thus unreliable. Mammon, slowly righted her bent neck, black tar like blood staining her teeth and dripping from her chin as she began to chuckle again. She licked her lips with a less than human, blackened tongue and hummed. 

“Come now, let the boy have his fun. It’s amusing to watch him fail again and again. Can’t save his mother, can’t save his mate, can’t save himself, oh what’s a little butterfly supposed to do when his wings are still too wet to fly?” she taunted in a sing song voice, tapering off into giggles once again. “It’s so lovely inside her, but you would know all about that wouldn’t you Asmodeus? Tell me, is the son as loose as the mother?”

Sebastian’s snarl was vicious, his serrated teeth flashing ferally as he swiftly dove in to force the possessed woman’s body back onto the floor of the cage ruins, black tendrils leaking from beneath his skin, swirling ferociously and reaching to restrain her, pinning her back forcefully. She choked briefly, but her laughter rose up again. “Doesn’t he know, you can’t save her either? Or have you been hiding that truth from him as well?” Mammon clicked her tongue, dark blood spattering over her face and his as she did, “You’d think you’d learn by now what secrets do to trust Asmodeus…”

“Enough! Your threats are meaningless. You’ll be devoured and destroyed just as Belphegor was,” he replied acidically, inky fingers slipping around the pale column of her throat, knowing in his core that what she said was true. He could feel the widespread poison of her webbed through Rachel’s being, rooted in her soul and strangling her lifeforce, in her blood, and in the rest of her; she could not be saved. 

“Oh of that, I have no doubt. But the company I’ll be travelling with is worth it, don’t you agree?”

Ciel fought against Poe, was hurt by the familiar’s lack of solidarity in this situation. Hadn’t they been through enough together for that? Couldn’t he see how desperately his mother needed him? He struggled, twisting and squirming out of his nightshirt to free himself of the raven. If he wanted to restrain him now he’d have to cause him physical pain and he doubted very much Poe would be willing to let it get to that point. 

He rushed his mate who loomed over his mother and tried to pry him off her, his fingers digging recklessly into the firm flesh of his exposed back, “Stop it Sebastian! You’re hurting her! You’re _killing her!_ ” When that didn’t work, he beat his fists against him with no effect, “You’re supposed to save her! Do it! I’m ordering you!”

Raspy laughter echoed in the room as Mammon mocked the human, “Yes save me! Save me! It hurts!” She shuddered when the other fallen’s grip tightened and her laughter became more laboured in response, hissing as her body bowed upward, limbs snapping at awkward angles as Sebastian both trapped and pried her from the deepest recesses of Rachel’s being. 

Sebastian growled in frustration, feeling the pull of the contract, but with no way to follow the order without causing harm to his lover, he could not obey Ciel’s desperate order. He glanced over his shoulder and snarled as he pushed Ciel back with one wing, “You ask too much of me. I cannot make that promise to you. I can only save what’s left of her damaged soul and even that will be a battle. Stay back; it’s not safe for you!”

Ciel was undeterred by Sebastian’s wing while any restraint and kindness he might have had towards his mate shattered the moment he'd been snarled at. He began to pull at the wing viciously, plucking fistfuls of feathers in an attempt to get closer to his mother. “You bastard! You’re breaking her! Her bones are snapping! Save her or I'll be asking much worse of you when this is over!”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, a low harsh hiss slipping from between them as Ciel tore away handfuls of dark, downy feathers, but he did not move away from what he was doing, did not argue further. What more could he say? Rachel’s body was indeed breaking, much like the child Balban had resided in all those weeks ago, but Balban had not been as strong, nor as cunning as Mammon, was not as greedy to keep a hold of his host then and not as capable. The best he could hope for would be to save what tattered remains of her soul from destruction. 

Mammon was alternating between cursing him and laughing as she seized up, arching unnaturally as her fingers clawed into the ashy floor of the ruined cage, writhing, spitting harsh breaths and screeching blasphemy as Sebastian began to gather all the prickly barbed briars of her hold from Ciel’s mother, drawing them towards the surface where he might be able to extract and devour them before she could consume Rachel entirely. And he was sorry, aching with it as his mate desperately threatened and beat at his back, his skin feeling too tight, suffocating and thin, brittle as he fought against the compulsion to obey, to soothe Ciel’s distress, but he could not. 

Ciel was out of his mind with helplessness, his servant was ignoring his orders and all he could do was sit idly by as his mother’s limbs became unnaturally contorted and her joints cracked. He’d given up trying to pull Sebastian off his mother, convinced that the demon had abandoned himself to his true nature, had freed himself from whatever moral restraint he’d ever possessed that he could not or refused to be reached. The mortal sank to the floor behind Sebastian, sobbing as the tips of his fingers brushed the Fallen’s much abused back. He had but one last option, and though it would hurt to do it and most likely put his own life in peril, he begged his mate in a voice so small it could barely be heard over the laughter and wailing of the possessed woman. “You said you didn’t need our covenant to stay with me, Sebastian. Prove it. Break our bond and use it to protect her, please...” he beseeched his mate, struggling to find his breath. His head bowed and his shoulders hunched, the collapsed body posture making him appear every bit as frail and small as he felt.

Sebastian looked away from the distorted form of Ciel's mother to instead look at his lover curled in on himself, disheveled, bloodied and dirty, looking as if he might break at the slightest brush of fingertip to form. The words that came, the begging and desperate quality to the pleaded order knotted his insides and turned them viciously. He could not obey and the failure was potent and bitter on the back of his tongue as he spoke his denial, "I won't. Even if I could do such, in order to sustain her soul, I would have to take my sister's place inside her and still she would fade. I am not an angel any longer and I cannot repair a soul so damaged as hers has become. And to obey such an order would leave you vulnerable and in perilous danger. I cannot abide it."

“God damn it! I don’t _care_ if I’m in danger, Sebastian!” Ciel all but growled finding what fury and indignation he could muster to back his words with something more than sobs. “You’re useless! If you’re too weak to do it, say so! If you couldn’t save her from the start you should have told me!” He pushed weakly against the demon’s body as he inched himself forward, coming level with Sebastian and his voice fractured when he addressed the other Fallen, “Take me instead! Leave my mother be and possess me instead!”

Mammon's laughter fell silent suddenly and her golden serpentine eyes narrowed on the young man, a slow discoloured smirk pulling unnaturally wide across her chapped lips, cracking the flesh and spilling fresh dark blood. "How sweet of you to offer yourself in place of mommy dearest, do come closer child. I can make it painless," she drawled in a slow raspy tone. How naive the little mortal was, how ignorant, how amusing. It was no wonder Asmodeus and Lucifer had conceived such interests in him. Poor child... Sad little butterfly... So blue... So brilliant. She could take both the mother and the son, a lovely pair to call her own and in so doing, break Asmodeus, make him suffer so. 

She reached a clawed hand out towards him as she pushed her aura outwards to force her brother back, staggering him with the sudden lashing out of her own power. He stumbled and growled, forcibly thrown away from the tether he'd had on her and his protesting warnings went unheard as she drew the boy in with his mother's hands. Mammon could feel her host stir, but it was weak as Rachel tried to gather her shredded soul together.

Ciel’s eyes widened as he was drawn closer to his mother and he stayed frozen in that state, unable to hide his apprehension and terror at what was to come. His shaking was visible and made his mother's hands tremble in tandem as he looked into her golden glare. He couldn't be sorry for betraying his mate in this fashion when his mother’s life hung in the balance. She had given him everything, had never expected anything in return and so his sacrifice would be his one and only gift to her. He turned his head to give Sebastian one last look that begged both his understanding and his forgiveness before pinching his eyes shut.

Mammon smiled even wider, sharp inhuman teeth lined in thick jet blood as she pulled Ciel in further, cradling him almost gently before the bite of her clawed fingers dug into his skin. She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and murmured almost erotically, "Mm I can smell it on you. Divinity clings to you like scars to skin." Sebastian snarled, fighting against the dark smoky tendrils that kept him at bay, tearing them apart as he tried to intervene. She would not be able to hold him off for long; he'd become so strong after taking in their brother, stronger than she, but she only needed a minute. She craned her neck at an angle that no mortal could while living and unhinged her jaw, dark fingers seeping from her mouth, seeking as she held the boy still.

There was a sudden lurch inside her, an awful strangling grasp that drew the smoky essence of her being back in, gathered and held it staunchly, silenced her voice and gentled her grip. Her host had managed to muster the last of her strength and used it to regain control for just a few precious moments. "Don't be afraid my love. All I do, I do for you," came Rachel's broken whisper, tears glittering in her too blue eyes as she abruptly shoved Ciel away from her at the same moment Sebastian swooped in upon her.

Ciel stumbled the couple of steps he'd been forced to take and fell headlong against the concrete floor, grazing the uneven surface. He stayed in his prone position, face stinging, palms flat against the ground, unable to push himself up, confused as to why he should. His vision came in and out of focus and he found he couldn't hear anything even though he could make out the movement of lips. A soft weight touched down on his shoulder, as downy honey-lavender scented feathers caressed his face until a familiar black wing covered his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

Sebastian was grateful to his familiar as Poe settled over Ciel, shielding him from what he was about to do. His fingers slipped back around the woman’s neck and she watched him looming over her, met his gaze unwaveringly, without fear. He swallowed before he leaned in further over her, hesitating as his lips hovered bare inches from hers and their eyelashes could nearly tangle. Rachel’s fingers dug and clenched in his hair, pulling him down further so that her lips could brush his ear as she spoke in a harsh shuddering whisper, “Do it… You must before I can hold her no longer. You promised to protect him at all costs. Even if he hates you, even if he can not look at you again, you promised. If you love him, keep your word.”

His eyes went wide and his jaw twitched, wings stiff, brittle with his own distraught and he pulled back to look at her again. She met his gaze for a long, aching moment before she shut her eyes, her expression almost serene as she waited, as if in slumber. “Forgive me,” he whispered brokenly before he finally pressed his mouth to hers and beckoned forth his sister. He pulled greed from every pore, every limb and vein, every crevice in which she’d buried herself and insinuated her being into Rachel’s ruined soul, breaking it apart further without the demon’s presence to hold it together. His eyes burned behind the veil of his lashes and his throat seared as he swallowed. Again and again, choking on the inky black soot of his sister’s essence as he felt Rachel’s body losing life, becoming limper in his embrace with every fateful pull until there was nothing left and the breath on her lips when he pulled away again was her last.


	27. Iron Pyrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're afraid the cookies might not cut it this week... So if you're looking for something a little more lighthearted, check out our Sebaciel fluff-fest:  
> [ Raven's Lodge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11666058/chapters/26252463)
> 
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Inflatable by Bush](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-x52UKSGE0)  
> Ciel~ [Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me the Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AVRCQBc59w)

Ciel knew the moment Poe’s wing fell from his face that the deed had been done. He’d tried and failed, tried more than once and failed repeatedly. He was a disgrace as a son, a stain of the filthiest kind on his family’s legacy and _should_ have nobody to blame for it but himself. He considered just getting up and leaving, not sure he could look at his mother again, even if he owed it to her. What could he say? There were no adequate words to convey his sorrow or his regret, no amount of platitudes that could ease his conscience. 

A widespread numbness swept through his body, moving under his skin like rats scurrying for shelter in an abandoned home. The malaise moved him forward until his face hovered over her own and he pressed parted lips to her forehead, mouthing apologies she could not hear. His hand came up without his consent and lingered a moment over her eyes before he gently brushed them closed while his own burned like fire, prohibiting tears to fall. He doubted he had any left to shed anyway. 

He rose to his feet soundlessly but painfully, pulling on the nightshirt he’d previously removed in an attempt to escape the devil’s familiar and made his way up the stairs unsteadily.

Poe wasted little time in swooping after Ciel, perching himself on the young man’s shoulder and nuzzling the side of his head in a bid to comfort him, knowing what turmoil he must be in though the outward appearance of it had already faded. Ciel was expressionless, a blank, doll-like countenance on his dirtied face and his eyes dark and fathomless, unseeing as he made his way up the stairs, steps as silent as his voice. 

Sebastian watched them go, lingering in the shadows for long moments. He could not feel him; at first there had been so much roiling awful grief, guilt and desolation and now there was nothing. Ciel was numbed, an emptiness echoing through their bond that made the fallen ache deeply. So deeply and profoundly that he could not even form any words of comfort or consolation. What words would suffice even if he had been able to speak them? There were none. 

His body throbbed, greed rushing under his skin, itching and aching. He needed, wanted to touch his mate and be touched, to taste, and take, and breed. It was so potent that had he not held it, his breath would have been harsh and hitched with it. Even he understood that now was not the time to act upon his needs, that Ciel was in no mood, no place to accommodate him and that perhaps ached more than the arousal itself. He could feel something cold, acidic and anguished in his core, a mourning for his lover… remorse… He was sorry, but he knew he was not forgiven, not for this. No pretty words or promises, soft caresses or lovemaking would make up for the loss and the betrayal his mate must be feeling. He had had no other way, no other option that would have saved Ciel’s mother without endangering her son. It had been all he could do just to spare her soul eternal damnation, but to his mortal mate, he had not done enough. That much he could be certain of. Rachel’s final words to him ricocheted in his mind as he finally made steps to follow after his mate. He could hear the whispers and feel the eyes on them from the others in the house as they lurked in their own shadows, hidden in human skins, uncertain and too frightened to flee, drawn to the power that radiated from the Fallen, perhaps hoping to gain his favour, to call him master since he had devoured their mistress. He ignored them, disinterested for the moment, but should any become bold and draw closer, he would not hesitate to devour them as well.

His fingers begged for Ciel’s skin, his mouth for his flavour and his cock for his heat, but even as the desire viciously clawed and coiled in him and his erection throbbed in the confines of his trousers, he did not act upon it. Watching his lover’s back, garnet gaze boring into him with, desperate, devoted need. He forced the wanting away, ignored the pressing urge to covet and take in excess, to worship and monopolize, to consume and be consumed in return. It would have to wait at least for the moment; he would give his mate the time to grieve and he would take blame, be hated because there was no doubt, no lie in that he loved him.

Upon entering Ciel’s room, Sebastian lingered by the door, restless as he was and drawn taut with his base desire, he did not trust himself to be closer, did not trust that Ciel would want him to be just then, though he most assuredly wished to touch him, to cradle and comfort and soothe away his pain. How could he express that his mate was just too precious, he was just too selfish to have traded him for his mother instead? Like Rachel, all he’d done, he’d done for Ciel. His mate could not see it now, but perhaps in time…

“Ciel…” he breathed, gliding closer, reaching unconsciously, only to hesitate, fingers stilled and untouching in the space that felt much wider than the mere inches it surely was and he swallowed, the echoing of his nightmare in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaled and released his breath heavily before he continued, “What would you have of me?”

Ciel might have been desolate and unfeeling in the basement, but the moment he’d made it up the flight of uneven stone stairs, his mood had quickly shifted to one of resentment and anguished bitterness. He’d swatted the raven from his person with a rancorous snarl of his own as he commanded it to _get lost_ and threw a nearby valuable vase at it when Poe had tried to comfort him anew. The only solace he felt, the only comfort that could possibly exist at that very moment was the knowledge that his mate was aching alongside him. He hoped Sebastian would burn with it, that the pain would spread like a cancer, like poison, and consume him until all that was left was regret and shame. 

Too many responses came at once to the demon’s query and Ciel was tempted to lash out with each and every one of them, but settled on, “Don’t call me by that name anymore, or is such a simple order too difficult for you to follow, servant?” He didn’t give his lover the courtesy of looking at him as he reproachfully addressed him, did not want to be weakened by their mutual suffering so he busied himself by removing a large Victorian black leather medicine bag with brass fittings from the closet. After depositing it on the bed, he filled it with some of the items that had been left behind by his father: a few rosaries, two books and some oils. Then he added pictures of he and his mother, careful to turn them down right away so that he would not have to look at her cheerful face. Before fastening the bag, he fitted the trinkets Sebastian had given him including the crystallized heart and the crown of Eve and retreated wordlessly to the ensuite, closing the door softly behind himself and locking it.

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, lips parting as if to argue, to refute the accusation in Ciel’s voice, to disobey, but he was silenced, the throbbing of the intricate contract on the back of his hand reminding him that he was still bound by its infernal terms and because his mate was disconsolate and bitter with grief, his order left no room for protest or manipulation. He swallowed again, lips pressed into a thin frown, belaying his own discord and distraught, but Ciel remained unmoved, did not look back at him, did not wish to see him. And the words he spoke in return hurt with acute agony and tasted like ash on his tongue as he spoke them, “As you wish, my lord.” And then there was silence, nothing more to say as he watched Ciel packing, stayed still, unmoving as his mate disappeared into the ensuite and his familiar came to perch on his own shoulder with a soft melancholy trill. Sebastian could only reach up and stroke his feathered throat in consolation. It was, after all his blame to bare and he regretted that Poe should be punished for it.

Ciel stripped, took the scissors from the vanity and walked into the shower prior to turning it on. He felt no aversion to the chill of the water, barely feeling it at all as it beat down on him, stinging where he’d suffered cuts, and scrapes and washing off the blood that had begun to cake and dry on his bruise-speckled skin. Cloudy, darkened pink water swirled around the drain before running clear again only to be covered moments later with wisps of navy hair blackened by the liquid. The grieving boy grabbed great fistfulls of it and cut off near five inches and let it accumulate at his feet before it made its way downstream. It wasn’t meant to be even or well done; it could no longer be tied back and would be nothing but a messed up shag. Little by little, he would do away with those things that Sebastian had loved about him, a fitting retribution for the demon who had done nothing while what Ciel had loved dearly had been torn away from him. 

He stepped out of the shower, leaving it running, the drain clogging and the water pooling onto the bathroom floor. Soon enough, it would not matter. He ran his fingers through his new shorn hair and patted himself reasonably dry with a towel before returning to his bedroom. He stood before Sebastian, unblinking, small body much too heavy with grief that it took a considerable amount of determination to stay upright. He turned his head to the side, still unwilling to face his mate, “Heal only the wounds you can see. I want no scars, no blemishes to remind me of this mess.”

Sebastian closed his eyes a moment to perhaps hide his chagrin at the portrait his mate presented before him. The uneven and jagged fresh cut of his damp hair about his head was a chaotic reflection of the turbulence inside him which Sebastian could feel as vague tumultuous and churning waves in the bond, muted beneath the bitter contempt Ciel felt for him at the moment. He wet his lips, “Yes, my lord,” he agreed and set subtly trembling fingers to the damaged places on his skin, avoiding looking as much as possible, undeserving of the view of his mate’s precious flesh and untrusting of his nature if he should admire him too long. It ached to touch, massage, knead, but he abstained, fingertips barely ghosting as they erased every abrasion and vicious bruise that marred his mate’s form.

When he’d finished, he forced himself not to linger, not to caress and stroke, not to follow with his lips, though it was almost unbearable to restrain himself with the ferocious need inside him. He so craved to claim what belonged to him, what should be his, but he would not, could not because Ciel did not seek it, not now, not like this while his mother’s body lay stiff and cooling in the bowels of the manor, entombed in the ruins of the cage that had once been his own. If Ciel had not been human, this would not have mattered, would not have provoked such hostility, such malice and malcontent, but would have been sated in blood and sex and violence as with all creatures unholy and all would be forgiven then... But Ciel was only mortal and Sebastian would not be so easily forgiven his trespasses, no matter that he had done what he must to keep his mate safe and salvage the wreckage of his mother’s soul. She was still dead and his best intentions were not enough, undoubtedly. He could heal the wounds upon his skin, but he could do nothing to soothe the fresh ones that had been carved within when his mate had so clearly shut him out.

His fingers twitched, clenching and relaxing only to tense again as he waited, his eyes distant as they looked past Ciel’s shoulder to avoid looking at him instead. “Anything else you wish of me my lord?”

Ciel grit his teeth as Sebastian’s hands strayed from his face where he’d mended the broken nose and moved down along the whole of his body, erasing the harm that had been done to him and the harm he’d fruitlessly done to himself. Revulsion overshadowed his sorrow at the touch that was a little more than tender, familiar in its need and desire. He flinched and recoiled each time the physical contact even minutely resembled a caress, unashamed by the clear display of rejection he was demonstrating. The lower on his body the servant’s hands repaired and soothed the aches, the more Ciel’s lip curled in disgust, his face blanching when he detected the slight tremble of long slender fingers over his hips and thighs. _Disgusting demon, consumed by the desire for sex and blood. Further proof that his mate’s suffering meant nothing to him._

When Sebastian had stood before him again, Ciel gave his own body a cursory look before setting to dress himself in clothes that would be comfortable for travel when he got a glimpse of himself in a large shard of glass that had shattered from his gilded mirror and laid there on the floor. He snorted softly, not even interested in how such a thing occurred when he turned to the demon again after having fastened his jeans. He inclined his head so that it almost lay on his shoulder and pointed to the base of his neck, all the while glaring icily at his mate. “You missed one,” he said coldly, “I said _nothing_ to remind me of this mess.”

The fallen looked up in order to see what wound his mate was referring to, a swift, pained look crossing his features as he realized it was the silvery scarred marking from his mating bite that Ciel also well knew had been on his flesh for much longer than just this night. His implication was clear and the disdainful undertones to his voice hid nothing of his distaste as his mate looked at him. He smoothed out his expression once again, hiding away his own hurt, jaw twitching as he worked to speak, meeting Ciel’s eyes for a fleeting moment as he answered, “That mark is a brand you willingly accepted. It is a scar born of our bonding and as such is not one that can be removed. The best I can offer is an illusion to conceal it from view…” The offer was bitter on his palate as he spoke it, irritated and upset by the idea of covering the signature at all. Not that it would matter… Should Ciel demand it, he would be unable to argue, no matter how it ached in him to obey such an order and before he could hold his tongue, a hoarse whispered plea escaped his lips, “Please… Don’t make me…”

“Funny you should understand begging and pleading when it pertains to your own needs. Fucking selfish demon,” he spat acidically, looking to cause his mate a fraction of the hurt that was coursing through him. He bit back the bile that rose to his mouth as his hand found the taut belly of his mate, hot and damp from the battle that waged just under the surface of his human guise. He bowed his head so that Sebastian could not see the tears that began to swell in his eyes; no doubt he would mistake them for sorrow when they were bred from rage. His small hand was steady as it slid past his mate's navel, to the button of his trousers, where he could already feel the throbbing of Sebastian's engorged member against the confines of the garment. “Selfish _and_ greedy. Now hurry and cover this disfigurement. I have one more task for you before I leave the manor.”

Sebastian closed his eyes and bit into his own tongue, his taut belly flexing and concaving beneath Ciel’s fingertips, suspicious of the touch that was gentle, almost tender in its caress in comparison to the carelessly biting words that came from his mate’s soft mouth. He did not look as his own hand strayed over the mark that he had branded onto Ciel’s skin not so long ago and his jaw clenched until it throbbed as he wove the concealment over it, leaving the illusion of unmarred milky flesh where it had been on display seconds before. It physically pained him to hide it away, to understand the meaning behind its concealment and to know Ciel did not want to bare it. 

His hand dropped back to his side listlessly and his eyes opened, but were guarded, not looking directly at the young man, unable. It ached in so many ways inside him. His blood called greedily for Ciel’s wanton submission, begged and demanded and crawled beneath the surface of his flesh with restless desire while another part of him, a part he was still unused to, cried out in lonesome anguish, wanted to comfort and be comforted, was shamed and aching for his mate, hurt by Ciel’s rejection. But he voiced none of it. There were no words anyway. “It’s done my lord, what is your next order?” he said instead, voice soft, low, and still a little hoarse, but it did not waver and his garnet eyes remained guarded and distant under the veil of his lashes. 

Ciel ran his hand over the concealed area, and though he could not see it in the broken mirror, the silky raised area of the scar was still obvious under his touch. He grimaced and sighed heavily, “Ugh, I can still _feel_ it. I suppose this will have to do until I can figure out a way to get rid of it myself, or find someone else who can.” He further concealed the mark by slipping on a soft cotton shirt and a hoodie over that, hitching the bag he had packed over his shoulder. “Follow me,” he instructed leading them out of the bedroom and making his way down the hall. He could hear people scuttling behind the doors of the various rooms, talking in hushed tones as they passed. He could not make out their words, but the inflection of their voices betrayed their anxiety. They were all on edge; as they should be. 

He made a stop by the sitting room, stood on the gaudy Ron Arad stainless steel sofa Mammon had recently purchased and took down the _The Massacre of the Innocents_ his mother had revered. He carried it himself, not trusting the demon to keep even _that_ safe under order. It was when he stood outside on the front steps of the manor that had belonged to his lineage for some few hundred years that he noticed that it had been much colder inside than out. Putting the painting down on the ground, he leaned it against his hip and took out his phone. “I’m texting you the address where I’ll be staying in London, come find me once you’ve burned the manor down. There should be nothing left.”

Sebastian followed after his mate, lagging behind a few steps, refusing to comment on the barbed observations Ciel had made about removing his mating mark. There was no way, mortal or otherwise that would remove such a mark, perhaps smooth it over, but it would forever stain the young man's skin. A bond was only broken in death and sometimes even after and the madness, the grief in the mate left behind would be excruciating. Just this distance was painful enough; he could hardly fathom what the eternal distance of destruction would feel like. Instead of voicing his indignation or his distress over the thought, he remained stonily silent.

Upon Ciel's final order, his brows rose. "And what of the servants and staff my lord?" He questioned, wanting to be clear on his mate's command, lest he do anything else to disappoint him.

Ciel took his time finishing the online booking process for the nearest airport before he gazed up at Sebastian, mismatched eyes piercing him with annoyance, “Let's not forget the guests that Mammon entertained? What of them? They’re beyond help as well, I assume?”

"I could not say for certain," Sebastian replied tonelessly, guarded gaze meeting Ciel's for a long moment as he waited for his mate to respond once again. He wasn't certain what the young man had in mind, but he had a irksome feeling coiling in his guts that was distinctly not a result of his unsated arousal nor his remorseful melancholy.

“Of course you couldn’t; you weren’t even able to detect your own sister in my mother, even after I repeatedly brought up my suspicion that things were not alright. How do I know that you didn’t… that you hadn’t meant to… just to isolate me...” Ciel’s breath hitched at every punctuated statement. He couldn’t make the words come out right when the acrimony he held onto was quickly dissipating; he found he preferred it to the anguish that was clawing its way up to the surface. He shut his eyes and felt them sting behind his lids as he pulled in a deep breath through his nose, held it a second, then released it slowly. The threat of raging sobs eased after that long breath and he stared up at his mate again so that there could be no mistake in his command. “It makes no difference. But I do want to amend your orders. You are to burn the manor down after, and _only_ after you’ve consumed all your brethren on the premises. Bon appetit, you fiend.” Undertaker had made mention himself of Asmodeus’ proclivities after _eating_ , let the bastard deal with Greed plus the abundance of unholy _soul food_ made available to him now without the help of his mate to relieve his ache. He picked up the painting again and made for his car across the lot at a quick pace, unwilling to see the angry flames devour what was left of his childhood home.

“So be it,” Sebastian said as he turned towards the manor once again, ignoring the prying eyes of the reapers that had been lying in wait just for this very reason no doubt. He didn’t argue with Ciel’s accusatory suspicions. His mate was right; it didn’t matter. Sebastian had not had any hand in what had happened, perhaps should have been more suspicious himself, but how could he have known that Lucifer had tampered with the wards and cast his intricate illusions over the manor. Sebastian had been blinded by them, had allowed himself to believe that his elder brother had only sought to taunt he and his mate, not that he would target Ciel’s mother instead. It was clever and maliciously manipulative and he should have expected something so underhanded, but he’d been so focused on his mate; Ciel had needed him. And of course his brother would have fabricated such a scheme as to sew discord between them now, to divide them this way. It did not matter in the end who was to blame. Rachel was still dead and Ciel was bitterly grieving.

He growled low under his breath as he stalked back inside the manor, the walls already igniting with a snap of his fingers, moving swiftly, a predator as he hunted down every one of his disguised kin and devoured them as he’d been ordered. He gorged himself, for there were many, and he could not stop or slow, compelled by the command his mate had impressed upon him. And the heady throbbing of his blood, searing under his skin, electric waves of dizzying want pulsed and writhed through him, in him, unanswered, unsated, disappointed and outraged for their forced abstinence. He desperately needed relief, but he would find none until his orders were complete, and more likely than not, even after. It was rather clear, he was being punished.

***

Thank God the boy was so slight, it made the task of helping him walk up six flights of steep steps less of a chore. To be honest, it would have been easier just hefting him into a fireman’s carry, but the small drunk had insisted that he would be okay walking up the stairs himself; helping to support him had been the only way he'd managed to convince the proud boy otherwise.

There had been something so heartbreaking and desperate about the way he had emptied glass after glass of alcohol on the plane. As a flight attendant, it had been his responsibility to check his identification and to cut him off once he'd drank too much, but when the boy had told him he'd only just lost his mother, the young man couldn't find it in himself to deny him, especially since he himself had suffered a similar experience not even a year ago. Besides, small and drunk was the only one to occupy First Class and if he wasn't making a nuisance of himself and was only seeking an escape, he didn’t see what harm it would do. Ciel, the name the boy had given him, had been passed out when the flight had landed and so he had carried him off the plane, careful when he also lugged the massive painting and the black bag the boy had cradled in his arms in his state of unconsciousness. 

When the misty London air hit his face, Ciel had come to, completely disoriented and crying for his mother at the foot of the sidewalk where they'd been waiting for a cab. He helped the boy in when one got there and buckled his seat belt, was ready to see him off, but Ciel had pulled out a handful of minis from his hoodie that he had no doubt stolen from the airplane and started downing the first one. That's when the attendant got into the car and decided to see him home safely. The car ride was quiet until the newly self-appointed guardian realized he had no idea where they were going. The boy had mentioned a _Sebastian_ a number of times, sometimes in anger, sometimes between quiet sobs, half a dozen times it had been with longing and something like remorse.

He'd asked Ciel for his phone and scrolled down the list of contacts and found no Sebastian. He checked the recent messages that had be outgoing and found a London address had been sent to a _Fido_ ; his best bet was to go there and see if anyone was waiting to care for the boy. 

When they finally reached the sixth floor, the flight attendant saw a tall, shadowy figure leaning against the door that was the only one on the floor. The man rushed him, almost violently when they made eye contact and he instinctively shielded the small body that sagged against him. “Are… Are you Sebastian?” he panted, exhausted from having carried Ciel’s possessions and awkwardly supported the boy's weight while they had ascended.

“I am,” Sebastian answered in a dangerous tone, daring the man to argue while already reaching out to take his mate from the unfamiliar human holding him, “I’ll take him from here, thank you.” Ciel smelled like salt and despair and bitter resentment, the culmination of the aggrieved scents setting the Fallen further on edge than he had been already, hackles rising without provocation from the flight attendant that had obviously been kind enough to return the boy home. 

The man looked apprehensive, an instinctive fear flickering in his gaze, but he did not fight him as Sebastian tenderly extracted the young man from his arms and immediately turned away from him. He stood frozen as the door to the apartment seemingly opened of its own accord to afford the couple entrance, and remained there still for a long moment after it had shut behind them. There was a muffled thump and a low whine from behind the door that startled him, eyes widening before he jerked and became reanimated once again, swiftly turning back the way he’d come, looking pale as if he’d seen and heard something he really shouldn’t have. 

Inside the apartment, Sebastian set down the bag and artwork just inside the doorway and carried Ciel cradled against his chest. He found his way to the bedroom at the end of the hall though he had never been in this particular abode before. He could smell and feel the energies that resided somewhere in the home; no doubt holy and unholy artifacts that his lover had collected were stored in one of the other rooms of the flat. The charged energy did not help his already taut and tingling skin as his desires raged under it, instead encouraging his true form to emerge again in full. He hissed as he set Ciel down on the bed as gently as possible, fingers subtly trembling with the effort to restrain himself from taking him as he began to remove his footwear and extra layers of clothing to make his obviously inebriated mate more comfortable for sleeping.

“Must you always leave yourself so vulnerable without me by your side butterfly? Not only demons are dark creatures sweetling, even your kin can be as dangerous if you are not vigilant. Or is this another form of punishment for me? To leave me waiting and anxious with no word while I am already unsettled and aching,” he complained under his breath while his mate did little more than whine and shift uncooperatively as he tried to maneuver his hoodie off of him.

“I’m sorrrrrrrrry,” Ciel lamented, his voice slurring around the words and extending them unnaturally, “I can’t do aaaaanything right tonight.” He sat up and slumped forward like a living doll, his body shifting back and forth to find balance as he allowed himself to be undressed. He fell back onto the bed when he was shirtless, threw an arm over his face to shield from the light that was filtering in from the outside while his other hand found the base of his neck and fingered it gently. There was a throbbing there, an ache that distracted from the void in his chest. It pulsed against his fingers like increased blood flow to a wound in an effort to promote healing. Too inebriated to hold his attention on a singular thought, he was able to divert his awareness from the nagging emptiness to feel the twinges of pain start to bleed through his bond with Sebastian. The demon was barely maintaining his composure, seemed to be attempting to keep his own anguish from leaking out, but his control was waning. Ciel closed his eyes, his mate’s torment giving him trouble to pull in a full breath and sent a thought through their bond, _“use me”_. It was not a command, a question, or a request, but a simple offer from one mate to another to lessen one of their sufferings.

Sebastian growled breathily, the exhale of his breath a hot wash against his mate’s skin as he hovered over Ciel, his jaw twitching as he grit his teeth. How he wanted to accept that sweet offer, but the lingering bitterness emanating through their bond and the scent of salt and liquor on his mate’s skin stayed him. His own body throbbed with it, begging and eager to affirm, to “use” his lover, but he would not. Ciel was not some expendable and nameless sheath in which to sink his cock and sate his lust. He was precious and no doubt if Sebastian were to give in to his baser desires, his mate would not take kindly when he was in his right mind again.

“Don’t tempt me sweetling when you smell like tears and anguish. I won’t be the villain you are seeking in this,” he murmured, body shaking with tension as he leaned in to press his lips to Ciel’s sweat-damp and salty temple before he forced himself away again.

“No…” Ciel muttered weakly, grabbing whatever he could of Sebastian to pull him back in before he could leave, “ _not a villain…_ ” He swallowed convulsively, keeping the sobs at bay as tears spilled over and ran into his hair. “ _So empty…_ ” he communicated through his bond as he wept silently, “ _So empty, Sebastian… Please…_ ” He let go of his mate, digging his heels into the mattress so we could lift his backside and shimmy his trousers and underwear off. He only got as far as his thighs before he started moving with even less coordination to kick them off altogether. “ _Fill me… Please. So empty… Fill me Sebastian. Wanna be good for **something**._ ” This was what failure felt like; it ached and begged to be validated, to be desired without desiring.

Sebastian’s wings stiffened and twitched restlessly against his back as his mate clumsily groped at him and removed his own trousers. His cock was painfully hard, pulsing with each false beat of his heart and in time with the aching throb of his skin, the feel of his mate’s bare flesh and the sight of it only served to spur on the vicious demands of his nature, but still he held back. He would not give in, not like this. Ciel had had nothing but malice for him only mere hours ago, had demanded he remove his mating mark and rescinded his allowance to be addressed by name, had punished him and condemned him. He had not taken back those orders or those accusations and though he perhaps had been lashing out in his grief, it did not change the fact that he would most likely when no longer intoxicated return to bitter anger. If he took advantage of the loneliness his mate was suffering, he would be as Ciel said and he would surely pay for it later. He did not want to have him that way; he meant too much to him and after the poisoning of their bond not so long ago, he was not willing to risk him again

“Not like this sweetling,” he said, voice gravelly and strained as he spoke, fighting against the insistent press of instinct to take what was being offered. Instead, he rolled to the side of his mate and wrapped his arms around him though it pained him to do so without sating his desire, but he would bare it because this was love; it was meant to be painful. 

If failure was like the ache that resulted from being pushed off a cliff and breaking each and every bone in your body upon impact, then rejection was the sharp, searing pain of drawing out an amputation of all your extremities with a rusted, serrated knife. Even at his neediest, his most desperate and frantic, Sebastian _still_ would not have him. Mammon had been right. He _was_ an unworthy wretched little thing, a creature worth so little on his own. He beat his fists impotently against his lover’s chest as he was cradled firmly but tenderly, burying his face against him as he wept hopelessly. Just when he thought he could cry no longer, that the tears had run dry, he wailed a heartbreaking lament, cursing God in every language he knew, then in the ones he didn’t. His chest heaved uselessly, unable to move the air in and out and soon, he felt dizzy and tired from the lack of oxygen and his torrent of unrestrained emotion. After some minutes, his eyes burned along with his lungs and he pushed the hair from his red-rimmed, swollen eyes, looking up at the demon, “Just leave me…” he gave a subdued sigh that turned into the smallest of yawns, his body going limp as he slipped slowly into a restless slumber in Sebastian’s arms, “Everyone does…” 

“I’m not going anywhere my darling, I promise,” Sebastian assured though Ciel had already slipped off. Carefully placing the softest of kisses to his mate’s temple, he settled back and tucked his wings in around the young man protectively, closing his own eyes and forcibly ignoring the pulsing throb beneath his skin. Ciel smelled so delicious, but the lingering salted grief served to reinforce his restraint. It was exhausting constantly fighting his nature and though he did not require rest, he needed it, found himself drifting as he listened to Ciel’s heartbeat and felt his breath against his chest.

***

Ciel woke to a still dark sky and an empty hollow in his chest, a feeling that was heavy to the point of numbness that impaired his ability to think, hear or see. He knew the familiar arms that held him, the soft downy feathers that seemed rigidly stiff in their placement as they shielded him; and yet their intimacy brought no solace, only indifference and alienation. He extricated himself from the hold and slipped out of the room noiselessly, careful not to rouse his mate, lest he have to face him after having been so weak in his attempts to cope with the loss of his mother and having failed to capture his mate’s desire.

He took the afghan from off the back of the sofa in the livingroom and wrapped it around himself as he turned on the television and lowered it to an almost muted volume. The brightly animated Nickelodeon feature illuminated the room and though his eyes followed their movements he was unsure what was going on. He curled up on his side, his head situated awkwardly on the armrest and waited for the sweet oblivion of sleep to claim him once again.

Left alone in the bed, the Fallen’s hands sought out the missing body, a frown shadowing his beautiful face, but he did not wake, the absence of his mate only adding more anxiety to the dream that had taken hold of him upon falling asleep. He began to move fitfully, claws nicking the bedsheets as he desperately tried to catch hold of something he couldn’t reach.

Ciel was calling for him, sobbing and reaching out to him and he reached back, but no matter how he ran, how his wings beat, he could not catch him, could not save him. Ciel fell further and further, the distance growing between them until darkness swallowed him and all Sebastian could hear was his aching calls until there was only silence. And it was deafening. He dove after him, the shadows that were oily and viscous groping at him and slowing him and he was so tired, but still he pressed on until he was abruptly free of them, nearly crashing into the murky onyx floor. He came up short as he landed, startled and suddenly panicked as he saw him; Ciel lay broken at his feet. He could not breathe, but still somehow a guttural and anguished screaming echoed in the darkness. He had failed to save him; he had lost him. 

He shot up in the bed panting and sweating, eyes burning as the images of what could only be a nightmare flickered incessantly behind the narrowed garnet depths. He became abruptly animated again, almost frenzied as he realized his mate was missing and began searching wildly for him. He found him in the living room, curled on the sofa with a blanket tucked around him like armor. He looked so small, so fragile there, ghostly pale and furled into himself protectively like a small child, like he had when Sebastian had come to his room so many times when he had been just that and afraid of the shadows that had haunted him. He silently stepped over to him and bent to tenderly pick him up, blanket and all. Tucking his limbs in carefully and cradling the small, limp and exhausted form to his chest with the utmost care, he carried his little lover back to bed and held him. He was ever so precious; he didn’t want to lose him, but he couldn’t help but feel he already was.


	28. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! A mid-week update! 
> 
> Moral of the chapter: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. 
> 
> **Music**  
> [Oceans by Seafret](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpdXBjwXbMg)  
>  Sebastian~ [ The Quiet by Troye Sivan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vykVdJDu28A)  
> Ciel~ [Fear of the Water by SYML](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rsGxL8p9qI)

Snake sat on the front steps of the their little Irish cottage, his head inclined towards the heavens to take in the annual Geminids meteor shower. It hadn’t peaked yet, which made it more difficult for mortal eyes to see, but as the hybrid boasted no mortal blood, he was able to appreciate it as it was. There was something peaceful and soothing about watching the small flashes of streaking meteor momentarily light the dim star-filled December night; and if he strained enough, he could make out their soft tonality among the static expanse of the sky like faint ghost notes in a symphony. It was in this state of near-meditation that Oscar found him. The serpent had been gone just over a day and had come back bearing not wholly unexpected news. Snake let the serpent slither its way onto his shoulders before making his way into their home to find his mate. 

He approached him quietly and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, settling his head between Maltheal’s shoulder blades. “It seems to have occurred as you had anticipated, love. Should I take my leave now?” 

Undertaker hummed, leaning back into the shorter male, lolling his head back against Snake's shoulder, looking up through his lashes at him. "S'that so Poppit? What 'ave yer lovelies 'eard? The late lady's soul been spared. She's made it ta 'er destination," He murmured, pecking Oscar on the head as the serpent hovered next to his face, placed his hand over the back of his lover's where the held him around the middle and rubbed his thumb over the smooth scale and skin over the back adoringly.

“Unfortunately the Manor was not so lucky as the mother; it appears our Little Lord has had yet another painfully human moment and ordered his mate to burn it down. They’ve relocated to London for the time being…” He gave his mate’s hand a squeeze and shifted his weight uncomfortably as he considered his next words. “They’re both suffering needlessly. Do they not learn from their mistakes?” The demon he could understand, being half one himself; Asmodeus’ nature was so ingrained in the fabric of his being that much of what he did and how he reacted could be predicted by Maltheal. The little mortal was another story. It both irritated and distressed Snake that Phantomhive could easily let himself be ruled and swayed by his fleeting emotions; doing such could ultimately put his mate’s plan in peril and damn the boy’s own chance at happiness. “I should go to Ciel...” 

Maltheal heaved a sigh and turned in Snake's hold, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck and leaning in over him as he spoke, " Aye Poppit, I'd trust no'un else ta keep a' eye on 'im. Be careful wit 'im an' don't hesitate ta call me iff'n ya need ta." He pressed in for a kiss, drawing Snake in firmly against him before he murmured, warming his lover's chilled lips, "Lemme a' least feed ya before ya leave me."

Snake’s lips curled bashfully into a smile against his lover’s; it took no time for his features to deviate, for his eyes to glow a little brighter, for his fangs to grow a little longer and for the venom to pool in his mouth at the mere suggestion. “If you insist,” he said breathily, moving his mouth from his lover’s, trailing to his jaw and down the softened, pale column of his neck. He pulled Maltheal’s shirt to the side with more ferocity than was warranted given that he needn’t take the essence by force and bathed the faint pulse with his forked tongue before piercing the skin. His knees buckled under the euphoria that filled his mouth and spread under his skin, tingling and waking his arousal. A broken, appreciative moan managed to escape his lips as he drew his fangs out from the tender flesh, only to push his mate onto the large harvest table and straddle his hips. He looked down upon him, silver eyelashes fluttering in ecstasy as he brought the reaper’s wrist to his mouth and sucked where the echoed beat of his mate’s heart throbbed until the skin turned dangerously purple from the blood collecting there. He licked it once before sharpening his tongue and whipped it harshly against the discoloration, slashing the joint and letting the blood run down the arm so he could chase the steady stream, lapping at it, making sinfully satisfied sounds. 

The reaper hummed his approval deep and purring in his chest, palming Snake’s hip with his unoccupied hand and kneading as his lover drank from him. He shifted beneath the press of Snake’s rear against the throbbing bulge of his eager arousal. “S’good Poppit,” he murmured breathily as he looked up at Snake from beneath the thick curtain of smoky lashes. He pet at his mate’s side as Snake sucked harder, sighing a harsh, shuddering breath followed by a low groan, “Not tha’ I’m opposed but, yer goin’ ta make me make ya late iff’n ya keep at it like tha’ Poppit.”

“Mm...” Snake pulled one last satisfying drag from his mate's wrist and licked his lips before leaning down and pressing a series of reverent, grateful kisses along the contours of Maltheal’s nose, cheeks and finishing with his mouth. “We’ll continue when I return,” he said huskily getting back to his feet and extending a hand towards his mate to help him off the table.

“I’ll hold ya ta it, Poppit,” Maltheal replied as he took the offered hand and let his lover pull him to his feet, stepping in to give him another squeeze and a kiss to his temple. “Love ya like the sea loves tha moon. Stay outta trouble,” he murmured against the soft scale and skin before he drew away to allow Snake to leave.

***

December in London was cold. It was also wet on this particular evening though Snake didn't seem particularly bothered by it while Ciel tried to match his long strides, shivering under an umbrella. He'd left Sebastian at his flat without saying a word. He wasn't sure what there was to say regardless; they'd sat in stony silence across the room from one another until a blue envelope had found its way under his door that morning. Sebastian had opened his mouth to say something and Ciel had silenced him with an icy glare, holding onto the familiar missive, mentally debating whether or not to obey the order and trying to weigh the pros and cons of such a decision. It was only when there was a soft knock at the door and Snake was trying to usher him out, jacket and umbrella in hand that he impulsively reached for a knapsack of exorcism essentials from the spare room before leaving.

As it turned out, the exorcism of Oliver Davies had been a simple one. In fact, the man had been sleeping when they let themselves into his neglected bungalow. Ciel hadn't even bothered with any of the teaching he’d practiced over the years, but simply strode over to the unconscious individual, saying an incantation in some long-dead language he didn’t understand as he sliced his palm. Before he so much as touched Oliver, blue flames erupted from his mouth, scorching the ceiling and making Ciel fall back in shock. It had been much too easy. 

Snake gave the man a cursory look and though his breath was shallow, it was unlaboured; he would be alright. He led Phantomhive from the home back out into the rain and was led in turn into a nearby all-night diner. They sat on red leather upholstered seats at the very back of the restaurant out of anyone's immediate earshot. His companions hid within the comfort of his oversized jacket, waiting eagerly as he was, to see if Phantomhive would eventually stop pretending that everything was as it should be. When the waitress had come over to the table, Ciel simply ordered two hot chocolates and once they were alone again, it was like a dam broke within the mortal and words began to flood out of him at an almost incomprehensible pace.

“What was the point of that exorcism? Why would the Vatican give me such an easy assignment after the last one? My blood worked fine just now, why didn’t it do anything at the Manor? It literally had no effect on Mammon. I… I couldn't do anything against her… She just sat there and laughed… What should I have done? Why is everything so hit and miss?” It was the first time he'd spoken about anything surrounding his mother's death and Ciel was relieved to be finally talking about it to an unbiased source. 

The waitress came back before Snake had the time to process any of the boy's questions, set their drinks before them and left again.

Ciel took a sip from the steaming mug, pinching his eyes shut when the liquid burned the roof of his mouth and leaned in across the table, “Forget all of that, just tell me this, Snake: how can I get strong enough to take on Belial?”

"It's impossible," Snake said immediately in his usual soft tone, words articulated, but spoken quietly between them. Snake's honeyed gaze bore into Ciel as he sat eerily still with his fingers threaded together and obscured by the yawning sleeves of his jacket, observing and cataloguing each twitch and shift the young man made. "How did you come to know that name?" He asked after a brief silence, tilting his head ever so slightly to listen as his serpents whispered their own opinions and suspicions in his ear.

Ciel frowned as he looked down at the table, taking the cheap paper napkin and twisting it until it came apart in his hands. “My mother- I… I mean Mammon mentioned it when she possessed...” The boy’s eyes were too bright, too glossy as he peered into Snake’s remembering the details of that encounter more vividly than he wanted, “She said that it’s _Belial_ that ordered this coup. Who is this demon?”

Snake wet his lips, " He's the first son of Satan, a born demon and another prince of hell. He's always been fond of Lust, no doubt he is more interested in your destruction than your mate's. He is not someone you can defeat," he replied bluntly; he would not coddle the mortal and give him any falsities to placate him. He had been entrusted with keeping him safe and he would not disappoint Maltheal.

“Yet…” Ciel added to the hybrid’s statement. He was seized by a darker mood, one that had been lingering just at the edge of his consciousness since leaving Phantomhive. His grief had bore his vengeance, but in hearing Belial’s fancy for his mate, it was his possessiveness that began to nurture his revenge. And while the anger against his demon had subsided somewhat, the doubts that Mammon had sown had only grown, widening the distance between them. He was weak and unworthy, but vengeance would restore him . He would not wait idly by while his mate was torn from his side by the first son of Satan. “Tell me how to get strong enough to take on Belial.”

“Are you hard of hearing, Emily wants to know. I’ve told you, it’s impossible for you. Belial is not a creature for mortals to trifle with. Do you have so little regard for your life? For your mate’s life? You are in no state to face the likes of Belial and Lucifer, you do not even have control of your own blood,” the hybrid replied, lips pursing as he crossed his arms over his chest idly, still watching the young heir.

Ciel reached across the table, his small body practically on top of it as he clutched Snake’s arm resting on his chest, desperate to convey the urgency of his plea, “Then _help_ me learn how to control it!”

"It is your own doing; I cannot help you. You are inconsistent in your faith, and so your blood behaves erratically. It is the flaw of mortality to be so indecisive," Snake said sufferingly. Had he not already voiced such opinions to the human? How many times must he repeat such sentiments before Ciel understood. Like the constant state of flux in his bond with Asmodeus, the young heir's blood could not find consistency, could not be steadied until Ciel realized the meaning of faith. He had too much mistrust still lurking inside him.

“Fine,” Ciel said leaving money on the table, standing and throwing his knapsack over his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself then. If I practice enough, I should be able to force it to obey. Trust me, there’s no indecisiveness when it comes to this.” He walked out of the diner both grateful that the rain had turned into a fine mist while they’d been indoors and that the hybrid had followed him out. “I can’t rely on the Vatican to give me assignments,” he said turning to look up at the other male, “I doubt very much they’d be on board with this plan; besides, if ever I’ve had little faith in anything it’s in them. Are you able to identify individuals who are being possessed?” 

Snake sighed heavily, shaking his head at Ciel's proclamation. He should not be surprised, the stubborn mortal still misunderstood, but all he could do was keep watch over him as he'd been charged with the responsibility. "I can smell them," he responded idly, shifting awkwardly as he came to stand next to shorter male, meeting Ciel's gaze as several of his companions peeked out of his clothing with curiously flickering tongues.

“Great, let’s go, then,” he said motioning for Snake and his companions to take the lead. The way he saw it, he didn’t have much time until Belial got wind of what had happened at Phantomhive, if he hadn’t already. It would only be a matter of time before the Second Prince retaliated in a bid to take his mate from him.

***

Sebastian seated himself on the sofa, absolutely still, no breath, no twitch of movement. Gaze distant as he tried to focus on quelling the vicious need writhing in his blood. It was torture. He wanted so badly, so intense in his need. His skin felt taut, drawn and itching, crawling with greedy desire. His fingers pressed painfully against his thighs as a shudder slithered down his spine to throb insistently at its base above where his tail protruded. He sat still and staring until he could not any longer, abruptly up on his feet and in motion. He paced restlessly, wings and tail constantly shifting, frustrated and aroused, unsated and without relief in sight. Ciel was not home, had been missing for hours, left before Sebastian could send Poe after him and even he had, Ciel would no doubt try to lose him, as silent and detached as ever he'd been. He said nothing since the night previous, had simply moved about as if his mate did not even exist, did not acknowledge him, did not come to him, did not call for him and certainly once he had vacated Sebastian's hold, he did not seek his touch again. And Sebastian _ached_ for him.

He did not know where his mate had gone and it only increased his anxiety and desperation. He wanted to hear him, to see him, to feel him as only he could, but he could not. Ciel would not have it.

Ciel came home as the sun had begun to rise, its rays piercing the dense fog that blanketed the city. Before even entering he felt it, the tenuous pull of their bond; it ached dully, smarting like a deep bruise, but there was nothing to be done about it. He’d offered himself to his mate the previous night, was rejected and that rejection only served to remind him of what little worth he had in the fallen’s eyes. It was best to leave things as they were, to let time heal his grief and their discord while he tried to become stronger, better. 

He toed off his sodden shoes before entering, pushing the dozen or so exorcisms he’d performed in Snake’s company out of his mind before making a beeline to the washroom to tend to his fresh cuts and bruises, not bothering to make eye contact with Sebastian who simply stood there in the middle of the room. 

Sebastian's eyes were on him the moment his mate returned, had sensed him before he had even reached the door. He was still as he catalogued the exhaustion, bruises and small lacerations that adorned his skin, the smell of blood and bittersweet sweat potent and stirring his arousal further, spiking his pulse and making his mouth water despite the concern that clawed up his throat and blocked words from escaping his lips. His hands throbbed with the desire to reach for him, to soothe away the wounds with touch, to bathe his flesh clean with his tongue, savour and be sated in his flesh. But he did nothing, just watched, followed and observed silently, pining, but saying nothing, irritated by his mate's lack of acknowledgement and more so by the sight of yet more bruises that he had no doubt could have been prevented had he accompanied his lover on the assignment he'd obviously returned from. His tail lashed back and forth with a mix of annoyance and desire and his eyes narrowed ferally as he leaned in the doorway of the washroom.

“Excuse me,” Ciel said softly as he shut the door on his mate, just needing the privacy to strip down and thoroughly cleanse himself of the sulfuric stench that clung to his skin and clothing. 

He turned on the shower and let the water rain down a minute before getting under the hot spray, making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan as the warmth loosened the tight muscles of his back. He hissed and grunted when his hand accidentally brushed his right hip, blackened from having been pushed harshly against the corner of a large armoire in an elderly woman’s home when he'd attempted to free her from a particularly nasty possession. 

“Mmph… Ah…” The shampoo he lathered in his still unruly hair stung as it made contact with the cut above his left brow and he could barely help the rough jagged breaths that escaped his nose like pants as he tried to work through the pain, rinsing the soap from the wound, effectively letting it run into his eyes. “Fuck…” he cursed almost breathlessly hurrying with the rest of his cleaning before turning off the taps and wrapping a towel around his lower body, wishing he'd brought clothes into the washroom with him. 

Sebastian rested his forehead against the closed door, eyes falling shut as he listened to the sound of his mate beyond the barrier he'd made between them. His palms rested against the jam of the door, fingers pressing into the wood with every pained hiss and groan that filtered through until it began to splinter under their inhuman pressure. Ciel did not call for him, had closed him out. Even without a direct order, he knew he was unwelcome. And so he waited there outside the door, just listening and gritting his teeth against the low growls that fought their way from within his chest. His body throbbed, stiff with tension, concern and desire turning to agitation.

Ciel fumbled with his discarded clothes as he tried to hold up his towel with one hand and turn the doorknob with his other. “Sorry, can I come out?” he asked, voice devoid of any emotion. It hadn’t been so with Snake, but he hadn’t felt like such a failure with the hybrid either. 

The immortal shifted, fingers twitching with the desire to touch as his eyes opened to the vision of his mate barely decent in the doorway. He forced down the desire and the irritation that rose upon viewing the extent of superficial but avoidable injuries on his mate's skin. Even so, a low feral growl rumbled in his chest and he struggled to remove himself from Ciel's path, fingers releasing the wood of the doorframe slowly, prying them away as the splintered bits fell to the floor at his lover's feet. He whirled away from Ciel and away to the kitchen to busy himself making tea for his mate simply so that he wouldn't attack him.  


Ciel’s eyes took in the wooden split pieces falling silently at his bare feet then to his mate’s stiff posture as he made his way to the kitchen. It was clear by the way he moved, by his absolute silence that his mate was still upset with him. Ciel shivered standing there, Snake’s words still resounding in his indecisiveness as he debated whether to follow Sebastian or to make for his bedroom. 

Following him would lead to what exactly? He could barely ask to be comforted after the words he’d uttered at the Manor, though he ached for it, craved it. Wanted to be touched tenderly and reassured that he still meant _something_ to his mate despite his weaknesses and failings. He would not order his mate to act accordingly, to do such a thing would cheapen it, make it pointless and inconsequential. But the longing for contact remained regardless. 

He marched into the kitchen behind his mate, leaving his soiled clothing by the sofa and tried to act nonchalant, though his quick shallow breaths confirmed he was anything but. He opened the cupboard and took out a granola bar, discarding the wrapper and stood beside Sebastian as he took his first bite, guiding the demon’s hand to his bruised right hip letting the towel fall to the floor. 

Sebastian did not look at his mate as Ciel came to stand beside him, staring down into the sink blankly, though his eyes widened when he felt his mate take his hand and guide it to his hip. He was slow to turn his head to see, having heard the rustle of cloth falling to the floor. Why so suddenly Ciel invited him, he did not understand until he realized the bruises beneath his palm. His mate wanted to be healed, the pain of he minor wounds erased from his skin, like he had the night before. He wondered if Ciel still wished for the removal of his claim, but he daren’t ask as he tenderly touched him. He soothed away the hurts like always, gentle in his ministrations, ignoring the subtle trembling of his fingers as he maintained the consoling contact, lingering as discreetly as possible so as not to be caught and punished for it.

“I made tea for you my lord, chamomile to help you sleep,” he murmured, unable to voice what he really wanted. He wanted to ask, wanted to know where he’d been, why he hadn’t called for him, why he was hiding, to scold him and beg him and tell him just how beautiful he was, how he hungered for him so ravenously, how it was agony not to have him, and how he loved him. But he did not say those things, was sure it was not appropriate, that it was too soon for him to approach such subjects. His mate may have invited him to care for him, but Ciel was not talking and Sebastian was afraid to know what hurt he was hiding.

Ciel cursed himself when Sebastian called him by title rather than name. What a moronic thing for him to have ordered of his lover. How he missed hearing the way his mate’s tongue had lingered on the final syllable, the way his tongue brushed against the bottom of his top teeth during its pronunciation. “I don’t want tea,” he answered quietly; he did not tell the demon what it was he wanted, to be held close and to forget the past twenty-four hours by any means possible. He wanted to know if Sebastian still loved him, still wanted him after he’d been insufferable, still wanted to share his immortality with a wretch like him. He did not voice any of his wants, could not when his mate’s rigid demeanor was so cold. 

He turned on his heel, leaving the towel on the floor, heaved a sigh so heavy it stuck in his throat a moment before finding its way out. He didn’t bother lowering the blinds or turning off the light before getting into bed and squeezing his eyes shut, praying god-knows-who for sleep to claim him as soon as possible. 

Sebastian did not immediately follow Ciel, could not, hands gripping the counter so hard, the marble made a grating sound of protest, willing himself to calm down, begging for greed to simply subside. He’d touched him, but it wasn’t enough. Never enough and his mate had dismissed him so easily, so nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter, as if it meant nothing, did not acknowledge the gesture or take back any of his previous orders, simply walked away, fled from him. He tossed his head and snarled as his scales flickered on his skin, warring within himself yet again as the need to chase his mate and make him understand, force it into him and take him, remind him over and over again who he was, what he meant to the fallen. 

He hissed through his gritted teeth and his jaw twitched with tension, forcing the desire down painfully. It felt like he was breaking his bones to fit in a cage that had been crafted too small for him, like he was fragmenting within and splintered shards were digging into his flesh from inside out. It needled him, a constant sharp twinging that spread under his skin and spiked in lurid waves through his body. It was like no torture he had experienced before; it was maddening. 

Finally, he managed to calm his laboured breaths, uncurled his fingers from the sink’s edge and though the pain did not falter or recede, he hid it well. He made his way after his mate, careful and purposefully making his approach known to the mortal. 

Though his back was to the door, Ciel heard the demon enter the room. He didn’t turn his head to look at him, imagined Sebastian would probably be looking down on him with dulled garnet eyes that had lost interest, fists clenched by his side most likely repulsed by the idea of sharing a bed with such an insignificant bug. The only kindness he could gift his mate at this moment was to spare him his weakness in the form of vulnerability and tears since they would do no good; they could not bring back his mother any more than they could save their relationship. Instead, he moved towards the center of the king-sized bed and turned down the sheets behind him in a selfish, silent invitation. 

Sebastian watched his mate curiously from just inside the doorway, the door closing behind him with a quiet snick. He cocked his head as Ciel shifted and turned down the bedding blindly behind him. It was another clear invitation and Sebastian wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, but it only served to fan the tiny hopeful flame that he would eventually be forgiven for his trespasses. He took a long moment to remove a majority of his clothing, leaving only his trousers intact as a flimsy, but necessary barrier between them. He could not trust himself and would not give his base nature any more reason to rebel against him. He slipped into the bed and sidled up behind Ciel, but did not touch him, maintaining just enough distance to be sure they weren’t touching, but close enough to feel each other’s warmth. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing at all. He stared at Ciel’s pretty nape for the span of several heartbeats, closing his eyes and heaving a husky frustrated sigh when he found himself moving to press his lips and teeth to the pale column. He could not open them again, willing himself to sleep instead, just sleep so that he would perhaps have some reprieve from the relentless call of lust and greed in his blood and the incessant desperate need to simply console his mate, to be close and feel whole instead of achingly hollow.

Comforted by Sebastian’s familiar heat, it did not take long for Ciel to fall asleep inches from his mate. He fell hard only to wake on a blanket of soft moss under the starlit night, the sound of water rushing nearby. Tender hands caressed his chest from behind, fingers splaying, groping and kneading his eager flesh then cradling his belly reverently. He sighed bending his head forward as soft, wet lips mouthed at the nape of his neck adoringly, sampling the subtle salty taste of skin that had perspired after a lengthy session of lovemaking and under the weight of his long silvered-navy hair which lay over his breast tangled with the long silky ebony locks belonging to his mate.

When a shuddering moan escaped his lips, it was in his bed at the London flat, his backside pressed against a throbbing clothed heat while his small hands searched persistently for the arms that had wrapped around his torso mere moments ago. Finding the larger hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed the tightly wound fist, taking time to suck and nibble the knuckles before he tangled their feet in a mess of sheets. “Mmm… Asmodeus…”

Sebastian growled low and pleasured in his chest as he was pulled from his tense sleep by the most delicious pressure grinding teasingly against his throbbing manhood, the pleasant scent of his mate’s lazy arousal, the feel of those soft lips and a clever tongue and the fond call of his name as Ciel’s chilly feet tucked themselves between his calves. His eyes snapped open, narrowing and dilating swiftly, nostrils flaring slightly as the name Ciel had called, his god-given name echoed in his head and his hands automatically sought to settle protectively over his mate’s vulnerable belly. His body ached and pulsed with reawakened and relentless need, but he did nothing more than mold his body to his mate’s and hold him desperately tight, burying his face in the soft strands of sloppily shorn hair at the young man’s nape. 

He knew immediately that Ciel was sleeping, could feel the calm that had settled over the bond between them, almost soothing as it grounded him. He reveled in the contact, coveting it while he was able and still abstained from taking him even though it was torture, especially when Ciel’s scent was saying his mate was agreeable. But Ciel was only agreeable in his dreaming and Sebastian knew better than to take advantage when their bond was so tenuous and strained with tension; until the calm remained steady between them even waking, he could not assume he had his mate’s consent while he was sleeping. His only consolation was that his lover was dreaming of him and no one else.

***

The days crawled by, turning into weeks and not much changed. Ciel had flipped his days and nights, waking at dusk after having slept throughout the minimal daylight hours to take tea in silence while the servant stood by idly at his side. They did not exchange words as Sebastian had taken over the careful dressing of his master, nor did they say goodbye when Ciel left each night.

The demon never asked where he was going or where he had been and Ciel assumed it was because he simply did not care; the mortal boy wondered if his mate would even notice if he never returned at all. 

Each night, he met with Snake and they walked through London, braving the harsh December elements and even harsher possessed vessels. Along with the practice, Ciel found himself gaining confidence in his abilities. He'd begun detecting the lesser demons on his own without the help of the hybrid and had managed, at least a dozen times, to exorcise them without laying a finger on them, simply manipulating the blue flames to sink into the host and pull out the beating black mass from within before strangling it and turning it to ash. 

But his gains were not without drawbacks. In experimenting and testing his limits, he acquired many injuries; gashes that would have required stitches and bones that would have required resetting. As of late, he’d even found it difficult to walk up the six flights of stairs to his apartment, would have to text Sebastian to meet him on the ground floor. He was sure he could have communicated his need through their bond, but he avoided doing so as much as possible to spare the demon such an annoyance since he always seemed on edge in his company. 

From there, Ciel would clean himself up, stand before his servant in the nude to be mended, then would politely decline the dinner offered. After the second evening in the flat, he always wore his nightshirt to bed, embarrassed by the noticeable weight loss that had accompanied his dwindling appetite. 

He always went to bed first, leaving the sheets downturned for his servant who always seemed offensively hesitant to join him and once settled behind, Ciel draped the demon's arm over his body wordlessly.

On December twelfth, Ciel found himself in a hole-in-the-wall diner with Snake after a particularly foul spirit had dealt him a nasty blow to the head that had caused him to lose consciousness moments after he'd ripped the damn thing out of its host and erased it from existence. He was nursing a long- cooled mug of hot chocolate while the hybrid’s eyes glowed beneath his thick silver lashes as he considered the mortal before him. 

“Just spit it out, Snake,” Ciel jeered, mismatched eyes not looking up from his mug, “what's got your serpents in a knot this evening?”

“You've still not spoken to your mate, says Emily.” Snake responded in a hushed tone, trying to sound sympathetic rather than accusatory or condescending. 

“No.”

“And yet, you’re still devoted to finding the ingredients my mate has requested of you?” He brought up his own mug of hot chocolate, and though he'd not developed a taste for it, Oscar and Wordsworth had. They took turns peering from his oversized jacket to lap at the smooth warm drink before he pressed on, “Why is that Phantomhive? Why gift your mate something as precious as a soul if you've no love left for him in your heart.”

Ciel ran a hand through his hair that he'd gotten cut properly two days ago and flushed at the directness of the question. For all his bluntness, for all his eccentricities, Ciel found he could trust Snake and had come to rely on his compassion and count him as a friend. “I never said I didn't love him.” 

“Donne wants to know, when's the last time you were intimate?” Snake asked, his eyes without a trace of shame and never leaving the mortal.

Ciel’s face burned a little hotter and he blew out cheek-fulls of air before answering the personal query. “Right… _Donne_ wants to know...I… I’m not sure… but sex… that's not _love_. You can't equate the two.”

Snake frowned then chewed his bottom lip as he considered how best to explain the little man’s misconception… again… “Hm, perhaps not to you, but the intimacy shared between a Fallen such as Asmodeus and his _chosen_ bonded could never only be considered _just sex_.” When Ciel made to interrupt he put his hand up to silence him. “You know your mate’s true identity and his past, have you considered that on top of covering your mark, his claim on you, that your lack of physicality might be communicating to Asmodeus that you are no longer in love with him?”

Ciel’s hand flew to the base of his neck instinctively, had felt the ridges of the scar recede ever so slightly into his skin as the days went by, but had attributed it to Sebastian’s unwillingness to be bonded to him any longer. He shook his head in reply to Snake’s answer, his voice too unsteady to answer properly. 

“So I ask again,” Snake said, petting the tiny Donne who had slipped out and was slithering its way across the table to Ciel,”Why gift Asmodeus a soul?”

Ciel opened his palm, welcoming the serpent onto his hand then pet her head gently with his thumb, “Mammon said I could not hold my mate for eternities, and I've come to accept her truth; but I don't need eternities with him... just one lifetime. Surely he could love me for that much? If a soul is what makes me human, then giving one to Sebastian should render him human as well.” And once he died, he would have his chance at redemption, Ciel thought but didn't say. 

Snake smiled sadly at his companion, but said nothing for fear that it would interfere with Maltheal’s designs. Instead, he reached over the table and put his hand comfortingly on the warm-blooded boy to coax his lovely back into the safety of his jacket. “Come Phantomhive, I'll see you to your place tonight to make sure you aren't concussed.”

***

Sebastian was going mad, he was quite sure of it. The aching in him had not dulled, had in fact gotten worse, become a deep throbbing in his bones, a searing burn in his blood that threatened to split his flesh and consume him from inside out. It was becoming ever more difficult to restrain himself, especially when Ciel pulled him close in the wee hours of the morning. He longed to hear his mate’s voice, so much so that it echoed in his dreams at night and sometimes even during the waking hours. He sometimes was sure he’d heard him calling, but then the pull vanished as quickly as it’d come and he questioned whether it had been there at all. He was sure he was losing his mind. Ciel was still not talking, even less now than the first evening and their bond was effectively numb, closed off from one another by his mate with his misplaced mistrust and Sebastian in order to protect the young man from the vicious need that lashed out and clawed at his insides, piecing them back together only to tear them apart again in a desperate and furious cycle. There was no relief, no reprieve from the incessant wanting. It was there and steadily growing rather than fading with the time and distance between he and his mate.

He hurt healing the nasty wounds Ciel came home with each night, felt them as if they were his own each time he erased them from his lover’s skin, only to be presented with fresh ones some mere hours later, smelling of sulfur, ash, and Eden and something else Sebastian could not quite identify, something bitter, unpalatable and disheartening. He did not ask, but he could guess what his mate had been up to. Poe had disappeared, distraught by Ciel’s rejection and dismissal and the fallen could not bring himself to force his familiar back in order to attempt to watch over Ciel when he so clearly did not want to be watched; he did not wish to further torture his companion or himself. It did not matter anyway as Ciel did not hide the evidence of his midnight excursions, no doubt performing exorcisms and other such rituals on his own, seeking something Sebastian was not privy too and he did not do so alone as the Fallen had come to know when his uncle’s mate escorted his mortal home. 

Sebastian was angry then, irritated that he should not be the one to be keeping care of his mate, that instead, Ciel sought another, trusted another. After seeing Snake assisting his mate to the apartment, he was overcome with jealousy, the greed in his veins increasing the avarice tenfold. Ciel would let another touch him so easily and yet Sebastian was only allowed to wash away blood and mend flesh and bone and those secret silent embraces that were as painful as they were comforting. So it was when Ciel had left the following night, Sebastian sought out his uncle, invading his territory much like a stormcloud on a clear day. 

Maltheal wasn’t surprised to see his nephew outside his door, could have guessed whom his impromptu guest would be even before the insistent pounding on the door to the home he shared with his mate. “Oi boyo, yer lookin’ a bit under th’weather, wha’ brings ya ta me ‘umble abode at this hour?” he greeted as he opened the door and stepped back to admit the Fallen.

“Don’t play coy with me uncle, I’m in no mood for your games. You know why I’m here. Explain to me why it is your mate has been accompanying mine and encouraging him to seek out danger,” Sebastian replied darkly.

Undertaker laughed, flicking his long silvery hair back over his shoulder and leading the way further inside the cottage. “I wouldn’ go so far as ta say e’s encouragin’ ‘im. I sent ‘im ta be sure yer lil’ phantom didn’ git inta anymore trouble’n ‘e can ‘andle. Ya’d be knowin’ iff’n the two o’ ya were speakin’ like proper mates,” he answered as he prepared a pot of tea that smelled like the fruit of heaven and the spicy essence of the earth, idly puttering around as he performed the oddly domestic motions.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me after what I did,” Sebastian gritted, looking away, jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth, staring down at the steaming cup his uncle set before him without seeing. He cupped it in his subtly trembling hands, soot-stained claws chittering against porcelain and giving away the tremors he could not hide.

Maltheal cocked his head, lifting his own cup to his lips, watching his nephew over the rim and humming thoughtfully. “Tha’s not likely ta be true. ‘E’s a mortal, ye can’t be expectin’ ‘im ta be able ta properly process wha’s all ‘appened in such a short time. Ya spent ‘nough years observin’ ‘em ta know they need time ta work thins out fer themselves, surely ya didn’ think it was gonna be easy when ya started courtin’ ‘im, specially given yer ‘istory. They ain’t like us jus’ like we ain’t like ‘em. Iffn’ yer asking me, ya need ta be patient wit ‘im, ‘ave a lil compassion Asmodeus. I know yer ‘urting much as ‘e is, but keepin’ quiet ain’t ‘elpin’ either o’ ya. Snake’s been doin’ ‘is best, but ‘e ain’t wha’ the boy really needs, jus’ like I ain’t what ya be really needin’.”

“What I need, he is in no condition to give me. I’ll only hurt him further. I won’t… I won’t do that, not again. How do you propose I make amends then; how should I garner his forgiveness when I wounded him so deeply? He understands nothing, but he does not speak and he does not listen,” Sebastian said, frustration and defeat fringing the tone.

“I can’t say exac’ly, but my advice is ya quit holdin’ back. Ya think yer protectin’ ‘im, but yer makin’ ‘im doubt his worth ta ya. Ya needta remind ‘im wha’ ‘e means ta ya. ‘Ow ya do that is somethin’ ya’ll be needin’ ta figure out fer yerself, but I would suggest ya take ‘im somewhere special, somewhere jus’ the two o’ ya,” Maltheal said honestly.

Sebastian considered what the first reaper had said, making connections silently as he pondered. There was a place… A place not for mortals, but Ciel was not just any mortal. Perhaps he could bring him there as long as he could at least get his mate just talk to him. Maybe he could be forgiven. “You have my gratitude uncle,” he said as he stood up abruptly, his anger of previous turning inward and shifting to determination and his body throbbed wantonly, relentless, but he ferociously ignored it as he made his way to the door. 

“It ain’t fer free. I’ll be expectin’ somethin’ o’ equal value next time we cross paths. Matter fact, I know jus’ the thing. I been needin’ somethin’ special fer me own mate. Bring me some o’ yer roses, ya know the ‘uns. I’ll be waiting so don’ be a stranger and Sebastian, good luck; I’ve a feelin’ ya’ll be needin’ it,” Undertaker called before the Fallen showed himself out. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea as he began to hum while his mind wandered. It wouldn’t be so long now; everything was going exactly according to plan.

It was with an aching, raw heaviness inside him that Sebastian returned to the apartment, not surprised to find his mate still out. It had only been a handful of hours Ciel had been gone and the Fallen knew he would return home soon. Even if he was gone for the night and the earliest hours of the morning, Ciel always returned, bloodied and bruised and silently seeking, but breathing and safe where Sebastian could hold him. Painful or not, he longed for those embraces. He simply sat still and silent save for his heartbeat on the sofa, carefully considering his uncle’s advice and how he would apply it when his mate returned.

So he waited… And waited… And it wasn’t until dawn was broken and the morning sun cut bars of lukewarm light through the blinds and across the apartment like invisible cage bars that he realized with foreboding distress that bordered grief, Ciel was not coming home.


	29. Casualty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a bunch for all the comments and support! It's totally appreciated, especially given the angstfest we have going on here and it's not over yet, so brace yourselves!
> 
> Hope you all uhhh enjoy it?
> 
> Moral of the Chapter: Be careful what you wish for.
> 
> **Music**
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6P0SitRwy8&index=27&list=RDwPT-YdNLxCs)
> 
> Ciel~ [One by U2 feat. Mary J. Blige](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpDQJnI4OhU)
> 
>  
> 
> And also, if you need a little fluff relief like we do, we'll be updating our summer camp au [ Raven's Lodge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11666058/chapters/26252463) shortly.

Sebastian began again by pacing, reanimated jerkily as he swept back and forth over the floor, his wings heavily draped and trailing behind him like an infinite starless night. A darkness so deep and profound welled up inside him, some brazenly gnawing, viciously familiar aggrieved fear that he had no explanation for. The apprehension wound already tense and twitching muscle tighter until he was sure he would shatter should even a chill catch him.

The room was too small, suffocating and smelled too much like his lover, the ingenue dew of Eden, surrounded and embraced by the aged scent of heaven and sin that clung to the relics his mate so adored. He followed the scent that he’d ignored previous, found the locked room it emanated from and was pressed by a strikingly familiar aching as vague wisps of his own scent crept from behind it. There was a piece of him in there, one he’d been missing for too long now. He knew what it was before he easily bypassed the mortal lock and the juvenile scrawl of runes that served as a barrier. He’d have been endeared by his lover’s attempt at warding if upon entering the room, he’d not immediately been faced with a dangerous side of his lover’s humanity.

There was a board hung directly across from the door, a desk before it covered with texts, papers and maps. On the board hung more papers with scribbled notes or pictures of items he’d been after, lines drawn and pins marking the faded map that was spread over the board’s surface as the backdrop for the precise designs of his mate’s treasures. He was before it without realizing he had moved, looking it over, following the plotted leads and further with the knowledge he, but his lover did not possess.

One relic in particular caught his attention, stayed it and drew out of him a roiling, devastated rage that he could not quite fathom. They’d never seen eye to eye, but he’d never bore his eldest brother any ill will that he could remember. He traced a clawed finger over the drawn line on the map, gaze following the motion with a feverish madness rippling within the sanguine depths. The sword was in Spain from what he could gather, tucked away in some hidden place by his long missing brother. The great defender, arrogant and self-righteous and mate of the morning star... _Michael…_ The name whispered through his mind like a threat in the shadows and like a damn breaking, an unadulterated sense of betrayal and anguish that chased away his reason broke through what strained restraint he’d been clinging to and he lost himself. 

He snarled ferally, lashing out at the display, claws ripping through paper, board and wall beneath like cutting through still water, sent the things on the desk scattering as he swept them viciously from its surface. He whirled around, shifting his rage to the shelves that crowded majority of the room, rows of them, filled up with the evidence of his mate’s successful conquests and the subtle spaces that indicated there were more yet to find their place there. He’d not known about this place, certainly knew of his mate’s appreciation for the items, but he had not known this side of his lover, the one that hunted them with no regard for the danger and the real threat keeping such things without proper guard was to his very real mortality. And Poe had not seen it, had never shown him, perhaps deceived by the sloppily scrawled barriers his lover had built around them. Whatever reason, it had been kept, was still kept from him. Ciel had not told him and the distant echo of a conversation they’d had some months ago now ricocheted in his head. His lover had deliberately omitted this detail, purposefully, foolishly keeping it from the Fallen. It served only to heighten his rage and his anxiety and he began destroying them, absorbing their energies unconsciously as they broke apart beneath the weight of his ferocity, fueling his aggression and base need further. He was heaving as he stilled abruptly before the far wall, head cocking curiously, nostrils flaring as he scented the missing bits of himself there on the lone shelf before him. Upon it sat a number of precious items, ones he had personally gifted the mortal. The newest from his courting the most recently laid their upon silk cushions, well loved and thus displayed with the utmost reverence and care. The others that bore his scent a decade or more faded, but unmistakable resting comfortably beyond them, trinkets he’d traded for treasures he’d coveted himself, hidden still in safe places of his own. He’d made a deal with the boy as a child. For each of his milk teeth, he’d bestowed a relic and had continued to uphold that deal even after Ciel had been taken away from him by his father. It seemed like centuries and only days ago he’d been talking with boy beneath his tented covers by the glow of a flashlight.

His fingers slowly unclenched, taloned fingertips drawing back from his palms as flesh knit back together the self inflicted and unfelt wounds they’d left behind them and his breathing slowed, heartbeat steadying it’s rhythm though the throbbing anxiety and relentless desire still lingered inside him. He cast his gaze around the strewn wreckage at his feet and all around him, realizing belatedly what he’d done and feeling the pulse of his wanting already growing stronger with the influx of yet more power, only adding to the unsated greed that had not abated in the least since he’d devoured his sister. He looked back at the undisturbed articles on the cushioned silk shelf felt both sorrow and elation. His mate would be unhappy. He’d meant to make amends and instead lost himself to a vicious bout of madness that had blindly overtaken him. What had he done?

The crashing and shattering could be clearly heard from the hall when Ciel had finally returned home from an exhausting sixteen hour stretch of work with Snake. He'd managed to not only exorcise the demons with ease now, but to converse with them prior to their eradication and ask questions of them that they would never be able to relay to their masters. 

He'd been thoroughly exhausted when he'd been helped back home by his friend and was looking forward to collapsing into bed with Sebastian under the guise that the latter would simply be tending to the multiple wounds he'd acquired. But when a dangerous snarl made its way into the hall along with the sound of things smashing, it was with renewed energy and adrenaline that Ciel found himself slipping through the door soundlessly and running to his private study whose door stood ajar. 

He watched on, blue-violet eyes widened in paralyzed shock as his beloved treasures were torn from their resting places by his bonded. They shattered, even the most resilient, the most indestructible of them against the floor leaving indents in the marble as they bounced and ricocheted. 

His life’s work. His passion and first love before the demon, nearly all obliterated, there would be no fixing them, not with the violence and seeming hatred with which they were hurled about. _Stop. Stop._ , he mouthed unable to summon his voice, unable to make a sound even as a rogue shard shattered from one of Moses’ Tablets and lodged itself deep into his thigh, wetting the beige khaki pants he wore, the blood turning them brown where it ran. 

It was only when he fell into the doorframe to catch himself that his lover turned about, seemed to have regained his composure enough to notice him. They stared at one another, unspeaking, as Ciel kept his eyes on him as though he were a wild beast that could turn on him at any moment, rounding the periphery of the room and making his way towards the last few of his most prized possessions the demon had not yet destroyed. 

When he finally reached them he held onto the third shelf with one hand to support himself while he faced his mate, his other hand up, motioning for him to halt. Seconds later,which felt like an eternity, he lowered his hand and groped behind himself until his fingers felt the pinch of pierced skin and grasped the crown of Eden’s roses. “You… missed… some….” He breathed heavily through the ache in his heart and his leg, then threw the crown onto the ground and proceeded to stomp on it with his uninjured leg, grounding his heel into the gift until the roses underneath bled onto the intricate details of the flooring. “Must you...” he said, shattering the heart of St-Valentine against the wall near the demon's head, “break everything,” he tore through the psalms and hymns, “You lay your hands on?” He doubled over as his leg shook with the effort of holding him up, happy for a reason to not look at his mate.

He hadn’t meant to, but he’d just been so angry. So frustrated and distraught, he’d forgotten who he was for a moment. Sebastian’s breath gave the softest of hitches as Ciel ruined Eve’s crown and he flinched when the heart of his once patron saint shattered next to his ear, not because he was anticipating the physical sting of the shards on his cheek, but because the sound was so much louder echoing in his head with a finality that frightened him. It was the sound of hope being lost, of anguish and desperate yearning crashing through his blood and tearing his core apart from the deepest chasms within. The pain of it was indescribable and he became angry again, worn too thin to forgive his mate for his rash and hurtful accusation. He was always so quick to forgive him, even now, he knew he would, though he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it, clinging instead to the aching frustration and burning dark aggression that pulsed inside him, at his limit as much as his mate was, tired of the steps they were dancing around one another, the unknowing and the dreadful silence that was driving him to madness.

“You are not without responsibility in this madness,” he gritted lowly, a feral, almost threatening quality to the tone as he spoke, his gaze narrowed on the bleeding crown beneath Ciel’s feet, the scent of Eden from the flowers became stronger, mingling bittersweetly with the all too familiar scent of the young man’s. And his anger spiked for the fact that his mate was yet again injured. Ciel had not come home, had not called him, had not breathed a single word and yet had nothing to offer but malicious barbs when he finally broke the silence. Did he not know how worried his lover had been? Did he not see how it pained him to heal the wounds when Ciel finally returned to him? Was he so selfish? So mortal… when he meant so much more than that? Hadn’t Sebastian made it known often enough? Had he not suffered enough for him to be satisfied? How much more penance did his mate require? Surely, he’d go mad with his wanting before he ever made up for anything... 

Ciel looked up at Sebastian from beneath his fringe, teeth gritted and top lip almost curling in seething anger; he opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He straightened with a grunt, tearing the bottom of his shirt to tourniquet the wound on his thigh that still bled, his life mingling with the silvered rose essence on the ground, before limping his way passed the demon and into the livingroom. He had nothing to say. Sebastian could blame him all he liked, could be as vicious as he wanted, it still would change nothing between them, just add to the distance that kept them apart. He wasn't sure what his mate expected of him, how else should he have reacted? How quickly was the demon expecting him to get over the fact that he'd been orphaned less than two weeks ago and moreso given the manner in which it had occurred? He was human after all and according to his lover’s kin, weak and without much value; but Sebastian had known that when he'd bonded himself deeper than their contractual obligation. Ciel was doing the best he could given the hand he'd been dealt and the traumas he'd been forced to endure, and _still_ it was not enough.

Mammon was right. The demon had stopped wanting to play hero, was probably offended by having to be shackled to his side, to have to keep him warm at night and tend to his wounds. If that was the case, he wished his mate would just say so. Not wanting to further upset Sebastian, Ciel took out his phone awkwardly from his back pocket, lowering himself gingerly onto the chesterfield and dialed the operator. “Hello, can you direct me to emergency services? I'll be requiring an ambulance.”

When Ciel brought the infernal device up to his ear, Sebastian physically felt the hold he’d been trying to keep on his temper snap. He was wrung much too tightly to take well to the dismissive action and implied rejection. No one else had the right to heal his wounds, to lay their hands on his precious places; how dare he invite them. His tail lashed out, knocking the phone out of Ciel’s hand and sending it skittering across the debris strewn floor and to be lost in it. And he was suddenly so close to his lover, crowding him, looming over him with half-spread wings and a possessively predatory, glowing gaze. 

“Why do you insist on testing my patience _little lord_? Do you so adore the suffering you bring us? You’re indolence knows no bounds. You revel in this aching; you must,” he growled, bowing forward, clawed hands reaching for the young man, drawing him in and holding him still as Sebastian bent forward to inspect the sluggishly bleeding wound on his mate’s thigh. His eyes narrowed further and his serpentine tongue flickered out, clearing away the bittersweet blood and pressing inside the wound, seeking out the stone that had lodged itself in his mate’s flesh. He ignored the hiss and the grimace that came from the young man, drawing out the intrusion, pitting it to the side of them and returning to men the flesh before he pulled away again. “You are so fickle. You call me love only some days ago, know the depths of my devotion and claim it as a reflection of your own, only to condemn me and abandon it later when I act upon it. How convenient it must be to attend it only when you fancy. Don’t you understand that even if you deny it, even if you ordered it, I will never be rid of it. It consumes and maddens me. It possesses me. _You possess me butterfly._ What more must I endure for you to trust in me? You are the only one capable of lies and the one you lie to most is yourself,” he murmured against Ciel’s skin as his mouth migrated, kissing bruises and licking lacerations closest to him closed.

As Sebastian ranted, Ciel’s head shook in denial, forming a little “O” of surprise with his small mouth, audibly expelling the air in his lungs at the hurtful accusations. His hand came up without his consent, his mind too busy trying to make sense of the dissonance created by the harsh words and his mate’s mouth upon him before he brought it down swiftly to make contact with Sebastian's cheek. The slap echoed in the room, its sound interrupting the soft kissing noises of lips and tongue pressing against skin.

Sebastian blinked, the shock on his turned face evident for a fleeting moment before his expression darkened and the possessive need in him spiked. He captured Ciel’s wrists with a snarl and yanked them forward to hold them captive against his chest where his pulse throbbed painfully. “Still you have no truths for me and you lash out. You’ve hidden from me little butterfly, but I see you. Tell me what you want because you act as though it’s distance you desire, yet you invite me every night. Do you mean to torture me?” he growled, the words feral and husky as dark scale and feather caught the low light and splintered in dull prisms over his lover as he held him with unexpectedly tender firmness. Though his aggression was palpable and he desperately wanted to roughly take Ciel, to force him to speak, to listen, to just understand, he could not bring himself to treat his already battered flesh harshly, not when he smelled so fragile.

“How dare you!” Ciel growled, jerking and writhing in his mate’s grasp. “ _I’m_ the one torturing you? I’m making us suffer? I am? Loving you has _cost_ me, Sebastian; I’ve lost my family, I’ve been tortured by Gluttony, raped by Lucifer, ridiculed and humiliated by Greed. And I’m trying… I swear… I’m _trying_ to cope with this shit as best as I can… but I don’t know how!” His voice broke and he stopped struggling, taking several seconds to recover, then lowering his tone so it would remain steady, “Tell me, is it love that compels you to be jealous of Lizzie? Of Snake? Is it love that demands you to only think of yourself while I’m grieving? To belittle my human experiences and my feelings because they are so beneath your kin’s? Did you _act upon your love_ when you ignored all my pleas, all my hurt, fed on your sister and took my mother away from me?”

Sebastian looked as if Ciel had slapped him again, his lips curling back in a feral, fanged snarl and his grip on his mate tightened, fingers quaking in their hold. He might have guessed what Lucifer had done, but Ciel had, like always, refused to voice the truths he kept to himself and he could have guessed, should have known the doubt his mate was having. But he'd hoped…

"I am a creature of sin, a fallen angel without soul or grace; I cannot so easily change my nature. Still I am enslaved to you, made my home in you. I cannot lie to you, can refuse you nothing should you ask it so long as your life is protected. Still you doubt my devotion to you. It is love that restrains me. Surely you can see what torture it is that shadows me doggedly. It is love that makes me suspicious and anxious of the intentions of others. It is love that made it impossible for me to forfeit your life for another's, no matter how you begged me. You do not understand the depth of the love that possesses me. It is excruciating and euphoric and wholly consuming. How many ways must I express it before you believe me?" he argued breathily, a hoarseness to his voice that belied the hurt buried beneath the frustrated agitation. How could Ciel still question him this way?

“Just one; one more way,” Ciel answered quietly, looking the demon defiantly in his dangerously feral eyes. His mate was certain he knew his master’s motivations, thought him perhaps to be heartless bug, a glutton for his torment. It wasn’t the case. He loved his mate, _adored_ him even. That was why he kept him close at night and it was why he was making himself stronger, worthier of being bonded to the Fallen. It was the reason their bond was not reinfected, wasn’t it? “Possess me.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, eyes narrowing beneath the press of his lashes as he stared at Ciel, immediately suspicious and confused by his mate’s proposal. At such a time as this… He did not think it was a good idea. “You don’t know what you are asking,” he replied, his grip loosening ever so slightly as his uncertainty grew in place of his anger, warring with the elated chittering of his greedy desire. He did not want Ciel to know what it felt like to be torn apart from within like this, to restrain the viciousness of greedy love, the desperation for the one, the _only_ one he wanted, his mate, his spouse, his beloved, so close, but to be denied because of that same love. He did not want him to know just how it pained him. It would not be the experience his mate was likely imagining.

“I do,” Ciel affirmed confidently. Mammon had been able to feel his mother, knew what she had been thinking. He was out of options, this might be the only way Sebastian would understand him, the only way that they could begin to make amends? “I don’t want to order this of you,” he said, pulling the demon by the collar down closer to him so that their mouths almost touched. He could taste the intoxicating breath of his lover on his tongue and shivered, nearly forgetting his hurt and anguish in the process, “If I possess you,” he whispered, his bruised lips brushing against his mate’s, “Then it’s only fair you should do the same.”

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered closed, his breath catching as Ciel’s lips brushed his, electricity spreading under his skin in the sharp, prickling waves as the greedy, as of yet, unsated arousal and wanting rushed up to meet the caress, eager for the intimacy. What Ciel was asking… He was inviting him and had he been less shattered, less frayed, he might have been able to resist, but as it was, he craved so deeply for the connection, any connection with Ciel that he could not deny the invitation regardless of the questionable motives. He just wanted to feel him… Just a little, just for a moment. 

He abruptly let go of Ciel’s wrists only to firmly frame his face and press his mouth to his mate’s swallowing his breath and breathing his own back into him, insinuating himself inside his willing host, a low pleased growl echoed through the room or perhaps it was only in their minds, as Sebastian spread through his lover, seized him with the potent and all consuming need, the painful arousal, relentless battering of instinct and torturous denial, the distress, hurt, and aching grief, forced himself into every vulnerable and available space offered freely to him and coveted the snug embrace of his mate’s being as he curled himself around the light inside him, drawn and yearning and ferociously possessive. It was overwhelming; the intimacy of the consensual possession profound and as he felt Ciel begin to shake uncontrollably against him, he was sure it was too much for the mortal to bare.

Ciel felt the pain first. Crushing in its weight. Spreading slow like lies between lovers. The lust was secondary, though more forceful, spreading like wildfire, filling every crevice, every unclaimed chink in his superficial armour and igniting it before the agony could get to it, abandoning it at the core of the mortal’s being with nowhere to escape. 

His knees buckled as the pressure built in his extremities, rousing every cell, every atom of his body. His toes curled painfully, his fists clenched along with his teeth and he fell forward with panting ragged breaths, resisting the urge to tear off the offensive garments he was wearing, too hot, too constricting; they would suffocate him and surely, he would die. 

_Desire... Want.. Need... Need... Need… Need... Now. NOW._ It beat against his brain like torture, like water dripping from a faucet; no, like a hand tightly fisted around his cock gripping and squeezing in consistent, agonizing pulses, relentless in its refusal to give him release. _Release… Now… Now…_ He was splintering, would shatter, the pressure too much, hurting, aching, burning, pushing outwards, if he could not be allowed his release he would implode. It choked him, robbed him of breath, made begging a necessity, _Please… please… please… take me… take me… fuck me… pound me… eat me… love me… love me… want me… need me…_

As keening whimpers and strangled breaths escaped his mate, Sebastian could feel Ciel’s quaking worsening, knees threatening to give out beneath him, and he knew he had not been wrong in his assumption. It was so clearly too much for his precious little mortal lover. No doubt the desires were too strong, too corporeal. It would take much less time to drive his mate mad with it and so with aching reluctance and the berating mourning of his greed induced lust clawing at him desperately in an attempt to stay him, to tempt him to remain. And it was tempting after so long without such intimate contact, but he did not want to cause his mate any more distraught, did not want to repeat mistakes of the not so distant past and irreparably damage him and so he drew away. He swallowed and licked his lips as he pulled away from Ciel’s mouth, tasting himself and his mate on his tongue and longing to free the writhing passion inside him as his sanguine gaze bore into the feverishly flushed and shuddering young man.It had been too soon to sate him proper and yet not soon enough to spare his mate the lingering effects of his nature.

He watched, a panting, laboured breathing mess as Sebastian pulled away, not understanding why the crushing need and want hadn’t subsided once he had. His eyes swam with tears until they spilled over, cascading down his face with the sheer frustration of it, with the intensity of longing and aching that added to his own overwhelming grief, not only for his mother, but now for his mate as well. He pushed past Sebastian, a little more roughly than necessary, spurred on by his shame at the want and desire to be selfishly filled by him, to fill him in return, to be licked, and kissed and sucked, to taste the devil’s blood, to hear him growl and call for him and as he couldn’t make sense of it, he bolted for the washroom. 

He slammed the door behind him, forcing the windows open, letting the cold air wash over his face and whatever exposed skin there was to cool himself, but it did no good; the heat resided within, burning and scorching and could not, would not be sated with such little effort. His hands trembled, shook almost convulsively as he tried unsuccessfully unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his trousers; he tried to tear them apart, rip them from his body but he didn’t have the strength. He kicked the door and slammed his fist against it, whining, moaning before opening it again with wet eyes that were unable to meet his mate’s, “I… I… undress me, I can’t… please Sebastian…”

The Fallen had followed his mate, unable to resist the pressing to do so as Ciel fled, ensnared by the scent of him, a heady mix of arousal, shame, and grief, of longing that rivalled and mirrored his own that lured him to the closed door. He scented the air intently as he listened to the harsh breaths and frustrated sounds that echoed behind the barrier, leaning closer before the door was thrown open again to reveal his dishevelled and desperate mate. He did not speak as his trembling fingers reached to obey the mortal’s teary request, intent and careful as he unfastened the buttons, his body taut and tensing, wings stiff and twitching as his gaze lingered on each inch of bruised and battered flesh revealed beneath Ciel’s torn and dirty clothing, restraining himself from simply tearing them off or burning them away in order to take his mate’s seemingly wanton invitation with painstaking effort. There was a strange sort of hesitation that curled in his guts, a knowing that Ciel was only acting in such a manner because he was so affected by the nature of Sebastian’s possession and by no real desire of his own. That consideration was perhaps more vengeful and vicious than the forced abstinence he was enduring. Even so, he throbbed with wanting and his fingertips lingered against his lover’s smooth skin for unnecessary moments. 

It took all of Ciel’s self-control to not order the demon to fuck him where he stood, to devour him whole and not to stop until they were both sated and lazy with relief. That Sebastian had felt this wound up and had _not_ given into his nature, had denied and rebuffed Ciel when he’d offered the night they got to this home hurt more than the incessant want that electrified him. He would not order it of his mate when Sebastian didn’t want him; this was but the effect of Greed and nothing more. 

Rejection swelled then found its way into the spaces his mate had occupied minutes ago, securing itself in place, giving him the impetus to get away from the demon before the evidence of his pain could show. As it was, his hand was already tightly fisted around his own rigid stiffness, unable to stop himself as he shut the door behind him anew, locked it and sank onto the cold tile flooring. “Ah… Ngh…” he just wanted to feeling to go away, to leave him, to be numbed to it, but the more he wished for it, the more it insisted upon itself. He tightened his hold on his cock which was hard to the point of pain and gave it an experimental upward pull, “Fuck…”

It took all the strength he could muster for Sebastian not to force the door open again when Ciel shut him out of the bathroom. His mate locking the barrier behind him was a brutal and searing dismissal, but he could not turn away. He could hear him, hear the shuddering moans and laboured breaths as his lover no doubt found relief by his own hand. He unconsciously bent forward, one arm bracing him against the door as he pressed his feverish forehead to the wood and closed his eyes. His own breath was harsh and hot as his other hand moved of its own accord to knead at his aching arousal. The pleasure it incited was painful, profoundly inadequate in his yearning. His own touch was not what he needed and it ached deeply in his core for the poor substitution.

There was an echoing of guilt, a hurting that was not entirely his, an imprint left in him by the brief connection with his mate that settled in his chest and throbbed. It was desperate, melancholy and cloying, growing with every pulse of his manhood in his grip, every pained gasp, sharp inhale, and devastatingly needy sound that filtered through the barriers between them. He could feel him, so close and yet so far away, unreachable though he sought him through the murky and strained bond between them. Ciel had retreated from him, left only a sense of sorrowful rejection in his wake and Sebastian did not understand; he’d not meant to reject his lover, had only sought to protect him. The failure was bitter on his tongue, coloured by copper as his teeth pierced it and his grip tightened around his angrily throbbing cock despite his wish to stop. He could not, working himself with inhuman viciousness to find relief he knew would not be granted. It was futile, a pathetic mockery of the comfort he most craved. It was not simply greed, nor lust that plagued him, but the relentless unquenched desire for that which only his bonded mate could provide, that which could only be soothed by his lover and no other. Though he struggled to comprehend the mortal’s anguish and embittered loss, to fathom what wrongs he’d committed and with no guidance to make amends, he understood only one viciously regretful and lonely truth with agonizing clarity; he did not deserve to have it. Why should he claim comfort and be allowed peace when he did not know how to provide his mate with the same? Why when he wished to soothe Ciel’s aching, to assure, protect and adore him, did he only bring him suffering? Certainly Ciel carried some responsibility, but how could he blame him? Was he not condemning his lover for that which he himself wished to be forgiven? He shuddered and clenched his jaw so tightly, it ached in protest as his body arched, taut and tensed so tightly, he was sure he’d shatter as his climax crested and crashed over him in tumultuous and cripplingly painful waves. There was no solace, no consolation of momentary euphoria, no sated contentment, no wholeness, only shame.

The closer Ciel got to his climax, the more it ached, punishing and brutal and not the least bit enjoyable. He wanted desperately to call out to Sebastian, to beg and implore him to forgive his trespasses when the demon’s need had been so dire. He’d never have survived this agony for a day, let alone weeks. For the moment, it was all he could do to just get on his knees before the door, penitent and contrite, his forehead bowed against it as he painfully worked his chafing shaft with an erratic ferociousness, changing hands every few moments, desperately trying and failing to find comfort or relief, cursing under his breath because he knew there would be none. It was unexpected when his body finally tightened, bracing itself, muscles flexing and body dripping with sweat that he drew a shuddering breath and came with a wounded cry. He pursed his lips, not wanting to be heard, embarrassed and ashamed as he choked down the sobs that shook and rocked his small frame. He pulled the nearby towel off its hook and made quick work of cleaning his hands before he simply sat there in the dark of the washroom, pulling his knees to his chest as he wept tearlessly onto them.

Sebastian could smell the misery that mirrored his own, could taste it in his mouth and feel it on his skin as he lingered outside the door, listening to the aching sobs and shuddering hitches of breath that came from within, the echo of a slowing heartbeat, guilt, fear, anguish so deep that it was unfathomable between them and still Ciel remained barred from him or perhaps he barred himself from his mate. It did not matter, until Ciel opened the door, he could not offer him his hand. 

It could have been hours he stood there, pressed against the door, as close as he could be to his lover, lamenting and lost in grief that was only partially his own until he could no longer remain there. He needed to collect himself, to refortify his restraint, assuring himself that it could not be hopeless. Their bond, though closed and murky with their misconceptions was still intact, was unpoisoned by deceit. There was hope in that and though it pained him, he forced himself to believe it. He would make things right. 

He laid in their bed, atop the cold and lonely sheets, closed his eyes and paced his heartbeat to match the one he could hear throbbing in his lover’s chest, silently making promises he would give everything to keep. Because Ciel meant everything. Because there would be no other love as desperate as what he felt for his mortal mate. He would learn. He would be better. He would not make the same mistake. He would be forgiven. And he would find his way home again.

A porcelain pale and delicate hand brushed aside stray strands of glossy colourless locks and soothed the frown on his equally pale forehead as she looked down upon the sleeping Fallen. He looked drawn, anguished and in pain even in slumber and she smiled sadly as featherlight fingertips caressed his temple and over his cheek. She leaned over him, platinum curls falling over her shoulder in a silky curtain around their faces, white down dove’s wings spread to balance her as she whispered in his ear like a prayer, “He hasn’t forsaken you.” And he stilled and relaxed as her voice reached him through the echoing of his own lullaby in a hauntingly familiar tone. He would not know that which had soothed him later, but it would not matter.

***

Ciel had miraculously fallen asleep atop the cold tiles of the bathroom floor somewhere between the gradual tapering off of his sobs and the conclusion of the aura phase of a migraine. When he woke, he was still nude, though shivering and there was a bitter taste in his mouth, not the usual pungency of morning breath, but rather an acerbity born of emotional turmoil. He frowned, sucking his lip, wondering how much time had gone by. Not so much by the looks of it though it had become darker outside. His body still ached with want, was still taut and stiff with low-grade arousal and the dull throbbing of wounds unhealed, but he ignored it, knew that trying to rid himself of it on his own was futile.

He showered for a lack of anything better to do, dragging it out near an hour, to the point where so much steam had accumulated in the small space that it had made breathing more difficult and rendered him somewhat light-headed. He stepped out, swaddling himself in a robe that irritated his sensitized skin and wiped the medicine cabinet mirror with his sleeve; not that he should see much in the dark, except that he did. His breath hitched and he gripped the countertop, overwhelmed with a sickening sense of deja-vu? 

“M-Mom?”


	30. Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience while these assholes work their shit out :P   
> This should make most of you happy. It made us soooooo happy!   
> As usual, feedback is enjoyed and welcomed! 
> 
> Moral of the chapter: "...to err is human; to forgive, divine" (Alexander Pope, "Essay on Criticism")
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Run to the Water by Live](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TB1zPYKQCCY)  
> Ciel~ [Take Me Home by Us](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=412UiNhnOHw)   
> Rachel~ [ The Power of Love by Gabrielle Aplin ‘](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNpeK7sDLzE&index=287&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)

Rachel smiled ever so gently at her son, “Happy birthday my sweet boy,” she greeted in a soft, adoring tone, the one she’d always used when she’d kissed away wounded tears and childhood miseries. She took a step closer and opened her arms to him. She looked different than when he’d last seen her, brighter and cleaner somehow, ethereal and unburdened in a way he’d never known her. She had reason to be, knowing what she knew now. She’d been watching him and his lover, seen pasts and futures. 

Ciel turned against the counter, bracing himself as he took in the loveliness that could only belong to his mother, though the small shaking of his head betrayed his denial and the gaping of his mouth, his disbelief. His grief bulged and surged, but he held up a trembling hand regardless, “You… you can’t be… It’s not possible… I _saw_ , I _felt_...” She closed the distance between them, taking hold of his wrist with tender affection and bringing it to her forehead. He felt nothing; no discord under the skin, no unholy tremors, the likes of which he’d seen too much lately, “I don’t understand…” 

“I know, but you will. Do you know how new angels are born Ciel?” Rachel replied, holding her cool hand over his and stroking her thumb over his knuckles as she watched him with too blue eyes that looked so similar to another pair that had been haunting him.

Ciel said nothing, too enthralled by the sound of her voice to even think of interrupting. It had been weeks, yet it felt like years since he’d heard it last; but in truth, he’d never heard it quite like this before. He swallowed and shook his head, devouring her with his eyes as he had when he’d been a child. 

“They’re born of sacrifice. A soul that knows this burden will be reborn with grace. That’s what makes an angel,” she paused, gently pulling his hand away from her face, but keeping a hold of it as she continued, “I have something for you, but before I give it to you, walk with me a while like we did when you were little.”

He nodded, not giving a second thought to the fact that he was only wearing a bathrobe; her aura gave off enough heat to keep him warm once they would venture outside. His mother led him to the door when he hesitated and looked back towards his bedroom, where he could vaguely feel his mate, “I should tell Se--” he mumbled but cut himself off awkwardly, doubtful his mother would want to hear mention of the demon after all that had come to pass. 

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, “Let him sleep. He deserves it,” she said with an assuring smile, no malice in her words. She was quiet after that, humming a soft tune as she lead him down the empty, cobbled stone streets.

“Did you know there is a little chapel in this square?” she questioned, finally breaking the comfortable and soothing silence that had settled between them as they walked together. She gestured across the expanse to a small worn stone building, fenced in with wrought-iron and adorned with only a single cross and stained glass windows housing angels. An enormous Weeping Willow grew to the left of it, shading a garden of mock silver roses, too blue to be true silver like those of Eden.

“No, but it’s so familiar…” Ciel said, sinking to the ground beneath the willow, splaying his fingers among the damp, cold mossy earth, “Those weren’t dreams, were they?” he said, looking up at her, then turning his attention to the roses. His stomach gave a lurch and he groaned his remorse, low and solemn, wanting to reach for them, but feeling unworthy after the violence he’d bestowed on the authentic ones. 

Rachel tilted her head, watching him through her pale lashes, “Certainly many of them are much more than that,” she affirmed vaguely, shifting her gaze to match his lingering on the rose garden. “There’s only one place where true silver roses bloom. But it’s been lost for a very long while; it’s a pity all we have are forgeries as consolation and from what I’ve seen, they pale in comparison,” she commented, her expression an odd mix of bittersweet sadness and hopefulness, a faith that not all things that were lost remained that way forever. She knew he could not yet see it, but with time and a little _push_ in the right direction, he would come to.

Ciel let out a lamented sigh, something more than guilt roiling painfully in his gut; remorse and regret even seemed too insignificant as adequate descriptors. “I really fucked up, Mom,” he said bringing a hand to his face to cover his eyes, ashamed to look at her after what he'd done to Eve’s crown mere hours ago. “Why does everything have to be so difficult? I couldn't do right by my father, I couldn't save you, I'm ruining my relationship with Sebastian… I'm watching myself fail _everyone_ , and it's like I can't do anything about it, even though _I'm_ the one messing it all up!”

Rachel clicked her tongue, moving to crouch down before him, the opalescent feathers of her newly acquired snowy wings whispering from her skin as she balanced herself, the soft blue glow by her braided halo casting shadowed light onto her son’s face. She framed his face with her hands and drew his gaze to her own. “My precious boy, only you believe such things of yourself. You didn’t fail your father or me, Ciel. We failed you when we sent you away. It was cruel of us, but your father thought he was sparing you some heartache. He did not know better. You must not blame yourself for my death. Do not grieve for me, can’t you see I was saved?” she tenderly thumbed away tears that the boy was likely not even aware he was shedding, continuing with a gentle smile, “Much like things lost can be found, things broken can be mended; you’ve not ruined anything. Come, I’ve something to show you.” 

It was only when Ciel rose to his feet and saw his mother properly that he was able to appreciate her comforting words. Her consoling had not been out of some motherly duty, or what one might humanely offer a clearly distressed individual, but rather out of the need to speak the truth, to have it ring indisputable with every articulated syllable. He would not question her, he seldom ever did, but especially not as she appeared to him now, in a form that seemed natural for her, as though she’d never really been meant for this world, but rather the ethereal one. Odd how Sebastian had also always been bound to his word, though Ciel never truly fathomed how he too could not lie. Another wrong for him to right. Another step towards mending what was broken. 

Rachel’s smile widened as Ciel stood up to follow her and she clasped his hand in hers once again as she led him inside the tiny chapel. It was as humble inside the small building as it was outside at least until one looked to the heavens. The vaulted ceiling was painted with angels the likes of which had never before been depicted. In this small place of worship, aptly named _Assomption du Sacre-Coeur_ , a story that was known by so few was told. 

She looked at her son and then up, gesturing at the ceiling, “Breathtaking, isn’t it? The angel weeping there, the one with the silver roses in his hair, doesn’t he seem familiar?”

Ciel craned his neck, tilted his head, then squinted, “The pain in the eyes…” he told his mother, reaching a hand out as if he could touch the face painted onto the vaulted ceiling and wipe the melancholy from their azure depths. How could it not be familiar? He’d spent the past two weeks stealing glances when he thought his mate was not looking, had seen the sorrow insinuating itself little by little, deeper and deeper until it became etched onto his handsome face. At the time he’d attributed it to the demon’s realization that he’d lost interest in his bonded, but now… “He looks like the Asmodeus in my dreams; the long hair, the pale blue eyes, but the emotion is all wrong; I’ve never seen him this weary, much less weeping…” 

Rachel hummed, watching him as he gazed up at the ceiling, a longing in his expression that he was likely unaware of and she gave his hand a little squeeze. “Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t have… He never had reason to feel lonely when with you,” she said wistfully, looking up at the beautiful artwork with a bittersweet expression. 

Ciel’s brow furrowed when he met his mother’s sympathetic gaze, “I’ve done plenty of things for him to have felt lonely of late, but you’re not referring to _this_ life are you?” It seemed impossible to him that he might have known Sebastian prior to being born, had assumed his dreams to be just that: dreams. To think otherwise would require too much faith and an even greater suspension of disbelief. Generally speaking, he didn’t believe in such nonsense; that’s what people who’d lost loved ones and had one too many regrets told themselves, when they sought a reprieve from their grief, needed comfort to just deal with the idea of finality. He brought his hands inattentively to his stomach, holding them there before he addressed her again, “Explain. Please.” 

Rachel tilted her head when she looked back at her son, her blue eyes glowing with warmth. “Indeed Asmodeus has loved you for a very long while my sweet boy. As you well know, he wasn’t always as he is now. He lived in Eden, tended the garden and sewed the seeds of love and desire between mortals as was his duty. But as he watched the love between them grow over and over, watched them be made whole by it as it flourished, he became lonely. He wished for a love of his own. I don’t know if you know, but God made angels with the capacity to fall in love, but only once. Should they fall, they would lose the knowledge of that love,” she paused, watching him for a long moment as he looked back up to the ceiling above, “Do you know why Asmodeus fell Ciel?” 

Ciel shook his head, “He never said… I never _asked_ …” He knew his mother wasn’t intentionally trying to make him feel bad, but that he’d never inquired made him feel worse as a mate. Losing one’s grace was surely a monumental event in one’s life; Christ, it was enough that Sebastian had undergone the transformation from angel to demon. He swallowed, looking at his mother expectantly, “But you know…” 

“Even if you’d asked, he likely wouldn’t remember how he came to fall as he did. But those of us who wish to, know,” Rachel replied, reaching to rest an assuring hand on Ciel’s shoulder, sensing his self-deprecation. “He found his love and they were happy for a time, but he was betrayed and his love was stolen from him. Yahweh did not care to right the wrong committed against his son, abandoned Asmodeus in his grief. It consumed him and he lost his faith, lost hope and abandoned his kin as they had betrayed and abandoned him. And in turn, Yahweh became angry and punished him. He fell and forgot his love, but not his loss, never his loss,” she explained in a hushed tone, the bittersweet expression returning to her face as she spoke.

Ciel’s shoulders slumped under the weight of all his mother’s revelations, but none weighed on him as much as the former proclamation that God had made his angels with the capacity to fall in love but once. If this was true, only two conclusions could be drawn; the first, and most unlikely was that he himself was the love that Asmodeus had lost all those lifetimes ago. But Ciel hadn’t _fallen_ , so should he not have better remembered such an epic romance? 

The second option, the one that hurt most, was that Sebastian had never loved him, at least not the way he’d said he did. Their passion might have only been a faint echo of the love he’d felt for whomever had broken him when he’d been an angel. It made sense for this to be the case; for all the demons to know and believe he was not worthy of their brother’s affections. 

He meant to voice these conclusions to his mother, had opened his mouth to say as much, when his eyes unfocused again, _he saw the terrain before him, was pushing the tall grasses aside with one hand as he ran and stumbled, desperately seeking shelter, no, asylum, a place to hide. His other hand cradled something warm and wet to his chest, a bundle that was whimpering, that sounded like a lamb, but was not. He shushed it tenderly, pressing his lips to its head as his breath burned in his chest; he couldn’t flee anymore, his body protested, screamed at him and so he took refuge among the roses they’d cherished and waited. Waited. Saw the bare feet move passed and breathed a sigh of relief until a shrill cry pierced the silence and he was met with a pair of ferocious blue eyes. His body tasted the sword._

Then a third conclusion came to mind, “It _was_ me; and he never loved me. He too-” Ciel swallowed back the bile and steadied himself against a pew before he could continue, “He took my life, himself?”

Rachel gave him a sad smile and shook her head. “Your memories are still clouded my love, but you will come to know the truths. Asmodeus… Sebastian has not lied to you,” she said, tugging him closer to her and wrapping an arm around his shoulders in comfort, while she continued, “Your soul is old my son and it knows many wounds, and it has known sacrifice. The wrongs committed against Asmodeus and you should have been righted then, but it is not too late now to make amends. You know don’t you, that you are forgiven? It is only you that does not forgive yourself.”

Silence fell between them for several long seconds as she held him against her side, one opalescent white wing curved protectively around him as they gazed up at the ceiling without words. She broke the quiet after a few moments more, giving him a squeeze, “Come now my love, time is running short and I have not yet given you your birthday present.” Ciel only nodded, eyes distant as she led him back to the apartment. 

Once there, she brought him to the room where all the relics had been left strewn and broken over the floor, releasing him as she ghosted through the wreckage. Coming upon the Crown of Eve, she bent to pick it up, touching at the crushed blooms with tender reverence. “Ciel,” she called as she turned back towards him, holding the crown in her hands and looking at him expectantly.

A pained expression crossed Ciel’s face as he looked at the ruined gift in his mother’s hand. He’d reached out for it initially, wanting to shamefully conceal its damage, much like when he’d been a small child and had accidentally knocked over his mother’s treasured Ming Dynasty Vase, but then withdrew his hands and gaze, taking a step back. “I did this,” he said, still not meeting her eyes, “I was just so angry…”

Rachel shook her head again, “Didn’t I say what has been broken can be mended if you so desire it? I had planned another gift for you, something you’ve been searching for, but perhaps you’d prefer this instead. Do you wish to mend it?” she replied, fingering the broken leaves and bruised petals of the silver roses. 

Ciel held his breath as he watched his mother’s delicate ministrations, fingers hovering millimeters over the weaved flowers, a dim, but lovely glow emanating from them and spilling onto the ravaged parts. He wanted it and badly, but his curiosity got the better of him, “What other gift?” 

Rachel lowered her lashes, looking at him knowingly, “The grace of a newborn angel. You have been searching for it, have you not?” she replied, already aware that her words were true. She was going to give it to him, regardless, but she wished to know what he held more dear.

“I have… but I can't accept it. Not from you, not for what it would cost you and certainly not when I could make amends,” Ciel responded, looking down at the crown in his mother's hands and replacing them with his own trembling ones. “It would mean so much to him if I could undo what I’ve done…”

“What would it mean to _you_? Are you willing to give up what plans you’ve made just for this? To right this wrong? Will it be worth the sacrifice?” Rachel inquired with interest, placing the crown into her son’s hands and her own over it, pressing down just enough for the thorns to prick into Ciel’s palms, drawing the tiniest beads of blood that were immediately absorbed by the ethereal blooms. 

“It would mean _everything_ ,” Ciel answered, giving the crown a tender squeeze. He meant what he’d said; of course it would take him longer to find this specific ingredient that Undertaker required, but if he had Sebastian by his side again, their bond renewed, whole and healthy, they would be an unstoppable force. “Please, mend it for him… for me…” 

The angel smiled at him and gave him a nod, “So it shall be,” she agreed, cupping her hands over the crown and closing her eyes as a soft light emanated from beneath her palms, cool then warm as the crown was mended. Ciel’s blood aided the process more than he could know, imbued with his love and longing, the petals became robust once more, the stems whole and unabused, weaved tighter, became even more lovely than it had been. And when she pulled away again, there in his hands surrounded by the mended crown was a lurid ball of light that shifted and shimmered as if alive, curling and coiling within itself, a final gift and the only gift she’d truly given him. Her smile widened and brightened as he leaned back, her hands slipping behind her back as she rocked back on her feet girlishly.

A warmth washed over Ciel's body, beginning in his hands where his mother had laid her angel’s grace, then spreading through his arms into his core and radiating out from him. It was lovely, even rivaled the crown and very abruptly he did not feel he had any right to be in the presence of either. 

He lay the crown back on its velvet cushion upon the shelf, and the small glowing orb in the silk pouch that had held the chocolate confections gifted to him by his lover some time ago. It was fitting, he thought, since the bag had now sampled two of the world's finest, sweetest treasures.

When he turned to face her again, she was all smiles, and even if she'd lost some of her radiance and ethereal essence when she’d gifted him her grace, she was no less beautiful or perfect in his eyes. He didn't know what to say, any thanks he could offer at this point would be inadequate; what did you say to the individual who gave you life, who'd been your first love, had never judged you, had sacrificed themselves for you then gave up their chance at Heaven for your happiness? It was nothing any words could express. And so he took her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin and held her, brushing his cheek against her soft curls and tightening his grip like she would leave him at any moment. “I could never love like you. I'm too selfish, too much a coward. How do you do it, Mom?” 

Rachel hugged him back firmly, her wings curving in around him as she held him as tightly as he held her. “It’s like that for everyone until one day they are granted a precious new life that must be protected at all costs. We’re all selfish until we know that purest of loves, the one that gives life true meaning. You’ll understand someday my love, I promise,” she assured him with a warm smile and knowing cloudless sky eyes, pulling away finally and resting her hands on his biceps while she looked him over, beaming, “I’m afraid I can’t stay longer my sweet boy, but I’m not the one you need most now anyway, am I?” She pulled him in again for one more hug, pressing kisses to his cheeks and squeezing him tight, her voice muffled in his hair as she spoke, “Forgive him and forgive yourself. You are stronger with his support and he is stronger by your side. Never forget, no matter the hurts, no matter the misunderstandings and the doubts, that you were made for each other and you will always be better together than apart. I love you. Be brave.” With those parting words, she let him go and spread her wings to take her leave. 

Ciel’s hand cupped his own cheek where he’d felt the heat from his mother’s lips upon it and he watched her retreating figure until it faded altogether. It’d crossed his mind to beg her to stay, to not leave him again, but he couldn’t find it in himself after all their talk of love and selflessness; she deserved better. Besides she was right, it _was_ Sebastian he needed, had always needed. 

But knowing he _needed_ his mate, and going to him were two very different things. He lingered in his office for an hour, dividing his time between tidying up the ruination of the objects he'd had stored there and admiring the Crown of Eve, trying to figure out the best way to approach Sebastian, to begin to make amends. By the time he’d made his way to his bedroom, adorning the crown and saw the demon on his side facing away from the door, he still hadn’t come up with a suitable idea. 

He leaned against the doorframe still in his bathrobe, appreciating every dip and curve of his mate’s musculature, reigniting the greed that still lingered and burned under his skin. Yet the yearning was for more than to just sate his lust; it was as Snake had said, it could never just be sex between the two of them. His soul was urging him, insisting to be shared again with his bonded, to know, to remember and understand their past through the familiarity of their intimacy. 

He watched as Sebastian rolled over, hands tightly fisted, eyes pinched closed, his body tense as he lay supine on their bed. Ciel’s breath hitched when he took in his mate’s still pained and tense expression even in repose, _What have I done to you?_ Before he could think on it any more, he was moving to the edge of the bed, felt it sink under his weight as he crawled onto it, making his way up the demon’s legs carefully, cautious not to startle his lover when he straddled his hips and lay down upon Sebastian’s bare chest. 

The demon’s breath caught and his body jerked ever so subtly beneath Ciel as his weight registered in Sebastian’s subconscious, followed swiftly by his most alluring scent. His eyes opened and immediately fell upon his mate. He was still for several long moments, uncertain and hesitating as he tried to connect what had happened to what was now happening. He did not remember falling asleep, yet he must have been because he had just been startled awake again. His dreams were foggy, a familiarness in them that he couldn’t quite grasp and faded as soon as he laid eyes on his wayward lover. 

He could feel the bond’s current. It was slow, but open, unbarred from him and he tentatively reached out, careful not to overwhelm his mate with his still greedy and heated nature. When he found no rejection there and only a depthless longing that mirrored his own, he brought his arms up around the boy and held him. He didn’t apologize again and he didn’t know what had transpired while he’d been sleeping, but he knew, he’d somehow been forgiven. The fingers of his left hand stroked Ciel’s silky hair gently, trembling with restraint, but he was elated just to be allowed to feel him after what felt like eternities without. “Do you still love me?” he asked in a soft and smokey tone, knowing the answer, but desperate to hear Ciel say it; desperate to say it in return.

Ciel shut his eyes, brought Sebastian’s contracted hand to his lips, and murmured into the brand, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” But it seemed inadequate. He tilted his head to the side and dragged the hand across the soft curve of his jaw to his neck, holding the demon’s hand palm-side down against the concealed scar and spoke through their bond, _Je t’aime, Te amo, Te iubesc, Rikhmith-akh_ and it went on and on, cycling through the languages he’d learned, each phrase as insignificant as the one that came before in conveying his soul’s desire. It was either out of desperation or frustration when he finally gave up, lifted himself somewhat and pressed his mouth urgently against the demon’s. 

_As I love you,_ Sebastian echoed through their bond as his lips were taken by his mate and he was swift to press back, taking the invitation and snaking his tongue into Ciel’s mouth, a guttural growl of appreciation rolling in his chest as he tasted him, like an oasis in a parched and desolate wasteland and his grip tightened ever so slightly, his own desperation and relief bleeding through their bond and reflected in his inability to loosen his hold. Encouraged further by the warmth of the marked scar beneath his palm, the glamour he previously placed over the brand flickered a moment, crumbled and flaked then faded altogether.

When he could finally manage to tear himself away just an inch, enough for his mate to draw in breath against his lips as they brushed Ciel’s, finally able without the fear or recourse, he breathed, “How I’ve missed you my darling. You mean everything to me Ciel. Without you, there is nothing.”

How Ciel had longed to hear his name on Sebastian’s lips again; it made him feel whole, claimed, wanted, and worthy of the Mortal Sin below him. His hands were in the ebony locks, gently threading through, thumbs rubbing the scalp where the horns should be, as though he was summoning them. The Crown of Eve drooped down on his head slightly though secure enough, seemingly tangled and weaved into his own hair and grazed Sebastian’s skin, leaving tiny scrapes against his jawline as Ciel placed delicate, open-mouthed kisses along his neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he breathed dampening the soft flesh of his lover, the words echoing in their bond, “Forgive me, please…” 

“Always my darling,” Sebastian assured in a dulcet murmur, “You are loved; you will always be forgiven.” He tilted his head, a quiet rumbling purr vibrating in his chest as Ciel’s lips brushed over his sensitive skin, pressing reverent caressing kisses along his throat and across his breast. He ran his hands over Ciel’s sides, his motions slow, fingers trembling and unable to be stilled, but he was firm in his restraint. He wanted to reacquaint himself with his lover and it would take far longer than they had at the moment. Ciel needed rest; he was exhausted. Sebastian had been patient and he would continue to be patient. What was a day in comparison to millennia?

He met the mismatched depths of his mate as Ciel looked up through his lashes at him, mouthing at his chest coyly. He licked his lips, his gaze narrowing on a single fat rivulet of crimson that wound it’s way down Ciel’s temple from his hairline and over his flushed cheek enticingly. He reached to draw Ciel back to him, eyes dilated thickly and glowing ferally as he watched the beaded blood slow and collect on the shapely arch of the young man’s cheekbone and Sebastian swallowed, nostrils flaring ever so subtly, scenting the bittersweet divinity he so craved. “You’re bleeding my love. The roses’ retribution for their mistreatment no doubt… May I remove it?” he asked because he didn’t want to assume, wanted to be sure Ciel knew he held power over him. Mortal or not, Ciel was Sebastian’s master and it had nothing to do with the contract he bore on his skin. 

“Not yet,” Ciel whispered between them, putting a hand delicately against the crown as he sat up on the demon’s lap and felt the throb of his lover’s arousal under his backside and fought the desire to grind himself against it. He bit his lip, frowning as he looked down at Sebastian, trying to put into words what he wanted to tell him without it leading to another fallout; some things just needed to be said before they were both lost to their greed or they were bound to make the same mistakes. “We’ve both been suffering and we never talked,” he was quick to put the fingers of his free hand to his lover’s lips to silence him when Sebastian made to interrupt, “And I _know_ I bear the majority of the blame for that; but we can’t keep going this way. I made you heal me, every single day so that you would touch me. I took the most ridiculous risks, knowing I would get hurt just so that it would take you longer, so that I could feel your hands tremble against my flesh, so that I knew you wanted me in some measure as well. Stupid right? Especially when I could have just asked.” 

He took Sebastian’s hand in his own and leaned in so that the soot-tipped fingers brushed against the blood that had been making its way down his hairline and onto his face, then brought it back to the demon’s mouth. “If there’s something you want from now on, something you _need_ , I want you to just come out and tell me.” Master by their covenant or not, Ciel wanted Sebastian to know that he had every right to have his own needs met. 

“What I need…” Sebastian murmured, watching Ciel as he guided his hand, breath hitching as his now coated fingertips touched his lips, “Is you Ciel… In every way possible and even the ones that aren’t. It’s never enough. You’re all I desire,” he finished, curling his tongue around the pad of his finger and cleaning away the bittersweet holiness that was his mate’s blood, his sustenance. He licked his fingers clean of any traces before he reached to frame Ciel’s face in his hands, “But this is enough for now. You’re injured and need to rest. You’ve not been sleeping well… As long as I can feel you, I can wait a little longer. Let me take care of you the way I’m meant to.”

Ciel hummed his assent, stifling a yawn at Sebastian’s mention of his fatigue. It was only when he’d allowed himself to feel vulnerable with his mate, to be open and honest, that he felt the comfort seep into the places previously occupied by his grief and shame, “Okay Sebby, but let’s go somewhere else…” 

“Where would you like to go my darling?” the Fallen replied immediately, undisturbed by the nostalgic moniker, willing to take his mate anywhere as long as he would get to hold him again, to hear his voice and feel him through the bond that knotted them together. The arousal still buzzed angrily beneath his skin, his manhood throbbing in time with the heady beat of his pulse, but he wanted too badly to be allowed even just this that he refused to acknowledge it, ignoring the numbing pain that twinged in his core and spread out from there. He couldn’t even feel it for the moment, his focus wholly drawn to his mate.

Ciel’s lips hovered over Sebastian’s, his head inclined so they could move in closer still before he brought their mouths together and kissed his lover deeply, his words resounding clearly through their bond, _“take me home.”_

_Home…_ it echoed in their bond and Sebastian knew that Ciel did not mean the ruins of the Phantomhive manor. Home, where Sebastian had lived before he’d been captured. He gathered Ciel in his arms, tenderly extracting his mate and himself from the bed and moving to the window. It burst open, the drapes billowing out after him as he immediately darted out into the predawn light, wings snapping open to catch the current, and beating lazily as they climbed higher above the city until the lights below looked like stars, as if he and Ciel had been swallowed up by the sky and could only see it's reflection upon the city's surface.

Ciel shivered in his lover’s embrace and was held more tightly for it. He’d missed the demon’s warmth, not only physically because he’d stolen that heat during his sleep; rather, the reopening of their bond, the love and reverence that flowed through it from each of them was soothing, reassuring. He yawned again, his eyes growing heavier with each beat of his mate’s heart and while he didn’t know where they were going, he trusted Sebastian implicitly, knew wherever they ended up, as long as they were together, he would be home.


	31. Contrition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral: Home is where the heart is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! You've all been patiently wading through angst and waiting for it! Yes it's the long awaited make up sex!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Love, They Say by Tegan and Sara](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ha-lMhCtmRs)
> 
> Ciel~ [Hagamos El Amor by Ricky Martin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7sZ35RPasI)

The air was cold and damp upon the rolling hills of Wiltshire, but expected given the season. Sebastian landed on the tallest of the stone structures that made up the ever mysterious Stonehenge, scanning the countryside with an inhumanly sharp gaze to be sure they were alone before he stepped backwards off the smooth rock and landed some feet behind it. He set Ciel down, steadying him when he faltered, still groggy from the exhausted slumber he’d fallen into along the way. Sebastian hadn’t minded; the quiet that had settled between them then had been anything but silent. It was inviting and calm, filled with the sentiments they carried between them and he’d found himself humming that worn lullaby through the bond that bound them.

Ciel had gotten his bearings, looking around and frowning ever so slightly in confusion before he looked back at Sebastian. The Fallen lowered his lashes and cocked his head, a fond smile ghosting his lips as he reached out to his mate. “Close your eyes sweetling,” he murmured in Ciel’s ear as he pressed himself in against his back, hands gentle as he used them to cover his mate’s eyes for him. A language that was now familiar to the mortal spilled from Sebastian’s tongue in a melodic string and there was a shifting in the air around them. Ciel shivered against him, so the demon held him tighter and guided him through the stone doorway he had opened between the stone slabs pillared at either side of the monstrous formation. 

The temperature was warm and the air sweet like the one that clung to Ciel. There was the distinct sound of rushing water from the backwards waterfall that nourished the garden spilling out around them. Gone was the hillside, replaced by a vast spread of moss covered earth, ferns and flowering plants dappled the space and fruit-filled trees flourished in knotted clumps. There was light, but it was white-blue like starlight, not bright like the sun should be, and it emanated from glittering, ethereal ivy that crawled over and lazily hung from the stone sky above the divine garden. Sebastian carefully guided Ciel along the familiar, but unseen path towards the waterfall that stood further back amongst the trees and foliage where his silver roses grew and glowing sapphire butterflies danced in the blessed air around them.

“I meant to wish you a happy birthday before this and I’d always meant to bring you here,” he said into Ciel’s ear, startling the still blinded boy and making him shudder. “Welcome home my darling,” he finished with a soft smile as he finally removed his hands from his lover’s face and settled them on his shoulders instead.

Ciel’s breath hitched the moment he’d caught the scent of the blessed fragrance that had drifted through the passage created by his mate; the strong, provocative floral scent of honeysuckle that competed with the heady notes of the well-loved roses was familiar though he’d not smelled their combination in this life. He let himself be led blindly by the Fallen, appreciating the soothing sound of rustling plants and ornamental grasses where the wind was gently moving them as well as the fluttering of nearby wings of something small, likely butterflies or fireflies, or both. 

When Sebastian had removed his warm hands from his eyes, he was greeted by a riot of colours, from the red speckled leaves of the green ground clover, to the white ghost orchids that hung among the trees, the yellow and purple lady slippers that littered the mosses and the flamed curled petals of twelve foot tall fire lilies. But not even the deep, smooth reddish brown of the chocolate cosmos, the patch of soft grey lamb’s ear scattered by the pool of iridescent water or the jade vine with its bluish, mint green hue hanging from the rocky ceiling could contend with the vibrant silvered roses that were his mate’s specialty. Ciel’s recollections had failed him, “Your garden is even lovelier than I remember,” he mumbled taking hold of one of Sebastian’s hands, leading him to a familiar weeping willow with its sweeping canopy of bright green leaves, then ducked under the curtains of drooping branches that blanketed the ground. The moss underfoot was well worn from the times they had slept there together, had made love there together, despite the centuries that had passed since then. In remembering their closeness, Ciel was seized once more by the greed that still thrummed in his body and took the demon’s mouth with a tender ferociousness, pushing him gently against the trunk of the willow tree. 

Sebastian was too distracted by the hungry lips that found his, Ciel’s words easily excused as meaning what he’d read about Eden, about the garden in which Asmodeus had lived.When the angel had fallen, he’d taken it with him, staining the Earth with a piece of heaven. All wonders of the world could be traced back to the Fallen and his kin. Even so, he could not deny the feeling of familiarity that woke in him as if Ciel had been missing from this place, but now that he was home, it’d been made whole again. 

His need to be closer, to covet, and worship his lover surged up, quick with greed in response to his mate’s initiation and the warmth of being home that blanketed them. He could not get enough of him. He framed Ciel’s face with his hands, fingers tangling in the feathered strands of his cropped locks, drawing him in, tasting heaven and devotion in his kiss and desperately seeking more of the heady flavour that was his mate’s love. His wings curved in around them, silky feathers shifting in the ethereal breeze that lived in the holy garden and Sebastian flipped their positions, bowing in over the mortal, pressing in against him with yearning adoration.

“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered heatedly against Ciel’s lips, repeating the sentiment he’d voiced already once, but needing to say it again, to convey just how true it was. It’d felt like slow asphyxiation to be so far away from him, more so than if the distance had been corporeal. Ciel had been just next to him, but they’d been whole worlds apart. And he’d only just realized how agonizing it had been now that he could breathe again. He pressed his lips along Ciel’s jaw, hot and desperate to his ear and down his throat to spread fresh marks in his wake, adoring and near giddy with the rush of freed desire as he took his time to taste his skin. Ciel was wanting and it was sweet with sincerity.

Ciel’s head lolled to the side to give Sebastian access to his neck as his own fingers fumbled with the sash that kept him within the confines of his robe. He needed, craved to be touched, was selfish with greed and driven nearly mad by it. He arched his back against the tree once the stubborn knot of his sash came undone and he bared himself lasciviously to the demon. There was something wanton and shameless about his shuddering breaths, the way his arousal was glistening, rigid and pulsing with want as he trembled under his lover’s mouth. The mortal palmed the Fallen’s hips, drawing him closer with a whine, “Do you still hunger for me, Sebastian?” 

“There will never come such a time as I would not hunger for you my darling,” Sebastian murmured against the dampened skin of his mate’s neck, pressing his lips and teeth to the fleshy, flushed column reverently. “I need you… It’s been torture to restrain myself,” he continued, nipping at ciel’s collar and further, dropping down to his knees and sliding his hands up the young man’s long, shapely legs, looking up at Ciel with heated and desperate scarlet depths, veiled by tangled and vaguely quivering dark lashes, “Please sweetling, let me have you…”

Ciel sucked in his bottom lip looking down at him with bright eyes and brought a delicate foot up to Sebastian’s shoulder, pressing curled toes into the flesh. The demon skimmed his slender fingers along the curve of his calf ticklishly as he caressed Ciel’s shin with his mouth, bathing it in wetness and heat. Another whine from the boy as he rested his head against the trunk. He was incapable of his own restraint and grasped his own cock firmly, strangling it then moving his hand up and down its length teasingly as a show for his lover. “D-Don't restrain yourself my love… h-have me… have all of me.”

Sebastian’s feral hum of approval rumbled in his chest. He caressed Ciel’s calf with his fingertips, admiring the contrast of soot on the unblemished porcelain of his mate’s skin. He curled his fingers around Ciel’s ankle tenderly. “So delicate,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his mate’s foot, “So lovely.” His tongue slithered out and lapped a stripe up the high arch of Ciel’s dainty foot. A guttural purr sounded as the Fallen continue to bathe his mate's skin with his tongue, cleansing away everything that wasn’t Ciel and finally allowed to soothe the aches in both of them.

“It would not hurt so viciously if we did not mean to each other what we do my darling. I will do anything for you, but I will not give you up. That is an order I will never obey,” he murmured between licks, nips, and kisses along the length from Ciel’s inner ankle to the side of his knee, “But you don’t really want me to give you up anyway, do you?” His tongue flicked ticklishly along Ciel’s inner thigh, taking his time and savouring the taste, greedily worshipping his mate after he’d been denied so long. He wanted to taste every inch of him, touch him until he trembled, when his cries became voiceless and every breath was a gasp; he wanted to devour them all, take him apart and admire him piece by piece before reconstructing him to begin again. And he wasn’t without generosity; he had every intention of giving Ciel anything and everything he wanted in return.

It was when Sebastian licked his skin clean, _really_ cleansed him, that Ciel could finally see the golden scrawls of their betrothal with his own eyes. They wrapped around his body, every bit as intricate and necessary as blood vessels and warmth and brilliance radiated from them the more his arousal peaked. He pushed his hips forward unconsciously, his body moving beyond any pretense of control and shook his head frantically in response to the demon’s question, “N-no Sebastian… never.” A hitched sigh escaped his mouth as his mate’s serpentine tongue found every fold, flicked every patch of sensitive skin lazily, back and forth, compounding the waves of euphoria that rocked through his mortal body. “Ah… Se-Sebastian… why do you love me so, after everything I put you through?” 

“It would not be love at all if I could abandon it so easily,” he breathed between Ciel’s thighs, nosing at the crease where Ciel’s leg met his pelvis and flicking his tongue beneath his mate’s manhood teasingly, resting his mate’s thigh on his shoulder as he pressed in for a better taste. He growled low and silky as the strong bittersweet spice of his mate’s arousal flooded his mouth. Looking up through his lashes at his mate as his long fingers stroked Ciel’s hips and sides, gliding beneath the open fabric of the robe that was sagging and drooped from one of his shoulders wantonly. Sebastian’s horns protruded and coloured with dark prisms as his own desire spiked in response and he nipped ever so gently at the delicate flesh between his mate’s legs, encouraged by the sounds that escaped Ciel unabashedly and the way his mate’s fingers clenched in his hair with abandon. 

Ciel pressed the heel of his foot into Sebastian's back as the demon’s mouth found its way to his throbbing ache. How he wanted to push himself deeply into that heat, to viciously grab him by the horns and thrust his hips into his handsome face, but he would not, he'd allow for the agonizing dissonance between his greedy want and his need to love and to show his devotion because it reflected his demon’s constant inner turmoil. It was a fitting tribute to the torture his mate had endured these few weeks. “But _why_ do you love _me_ , Sebastian? Of everyone, of any kin, why am I precious to you?”

Sebastian slipped his tongue between the soft cheeks of his mate’s rear, seeking to greet and lavish some much desired attention on the eager and neglected little orifice, spending several long moments unbreathing as he prodded at it and wormed his way inside to stroke the twitching inner walls of the tight passage and lubricating it with his saliva for things to come. He pulled away as Ciel spasmed against him and smiled as he pressed sharp kisses to his other inner thigh instead, drawing blood and cleansing it away again. “I do not know all the reasons for I am still learning new ones in each moment spent with you. You are unique; you have always been. Since your conception, perhaps even before then, I’ve felt you. You are familiar; you are home, and in you, I can rest. When all is chaos, in you, I can find peace,” he answered as honestly as he could. He could not explain the drawing he felt to Ciel; it had always been there and he did not have the words to describe the intricacies of how and why he loved him, but it was in the bond, longing and elated, aching and sweet with devotion, unwavering in its desire and faithful because there could never be anyone else for him. There never was and never would be another soul like his.

Ciel rocked himself gently against the intruding tongue, holding onto the demon’s horns then whined when it was removed. His mate's sweet words only further stoked the greedy flames lapping at his insides, deepening his need to be closer, to be one again. Ciel removed his leg from its position on the demon and sank to his own knees, seating himself on Sebastian’s lap and claimed his angelic mouth, taking no time to part his lover’s lips and capture his tongue to taste his own divinity, to gently suck and lick the essence of his core upon the wet, well-practiced muscle. And then, he couldn't help it anymore, couldn't control it when he started rutting himself against Sebastian as they devoured one another, their cocks brushing between them, the mortal’s smooth pink one as slick and slippery with precum as the larger black-scaled and spined demonic one. Their simultaneous desires were not only faint echoes in their bond, but a sound so loud that it drowned everything else out until all that surrounded them was a deafening silence. 

“Shh my darling,” Sebastian soothed, kneading at Ciel’s skin with firm tenderness, leaning in to press kisses to his mate’s shoulders, collar, chest and neck as his fingertips drew down the fabric of the robe he was wearing. “There’s no need to rush. Please… Let me savour you. It’s been so long and I _want_ so much,” he breathed guttural and hot against kiss dampened and bruised skin, rolling his hips against Ciel’s languidly, pace torturous as he continued to explore and map Ciel’s flesh with his mouth and hands as if relearning him.

“Nngh... how can you… Ah… Sebastian,” Ciel cried, arching his back wickedly. His knees shook on either side of the demon’s thighs as his hand found his mate’s cock, barely wrapped around it and gave it a few quick pumps, twisting and squeezing as it neared the head. He felt the slick wetness run over his knuckles and maneuvered his hand to rub his thumb over the slit, spreading it evenly before bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the sweet essence off his fingers. “Mmm… so hungry for you, Sebastian… Nngh... still feel you _inside_ me from earlier,” he said panting and grinding up against his mate with more urgency. “I- I can’t help it… please... make it stop aching so much…” 

The Fallen hummed agreeably against Ciel’s throat, snaking his hands behind the arch of his mate’s back, pulling him away from the support of the willow and shifted on his knees. He laid him back onto the plush wintergreen moss that smelled earthy and vaguely sweet like fresh dew and shade. He covered Ciel with his body, touching him, skimming over his skin with fingertips, lips, teeth and tongue, watching with feral, dilated, and glowing sanguine depths. And he spent long minutes listening to Ciel’s pitched breaths and keening whines, shuddering gasps and demanding moans, but his pace was even, unrushed as he took his time unraveling the young man. Stripped bare, to the core, to soul, exposed, vulnerable, ravenous, and breathtaking. 

“You are so exquisite butterfly. Do you feel how I want you? Do you feel how I adore you?” he whispered, breath washing over Ciel’s ear as his tongue flickered teasingly along the shell, his tail creeping up between the soft cheeks of his mate’s backside, slickening them further and blunting its shape to spear inside the other male, rippling and flaring inside him to work and stretch him in preparation for what was to come. He took his time then too, thrusting the appendage balanced between slow and hard, rubbing against the sweet spots inside him with teasing pressure, working his mate into a frenzy, greedily swallowing the heady rush of sounds that spilled from Ciel’s lips as he rutted his cock alongside his mate’s with measured rocking motions timed with his tail’s penetration.

Sweat dripped from Ciel’s hairline as Sebastian’s tail worked him torturously, mercilessly, bringing him to the brink, then denying him, working him up again and pulling away; each time making his back arch completely off the ground and flush with the demon’s warm chest. “Se...bas...tian…” he plead over and over as lips, tongue and teeth traced over his collarbone, provoking an even greater want. His voice pitched as he groped, stroked and kneaded the demon’s back, drawing blood when he came close to orgasm, “Yes! Yes! I… I… ‘dore you too… please love…” 

“Mmn butterfly, you always beg so pretty. How could I deny you?” Sebastian whispered, bowing over his mate, shifting his hips back, tail slipping from inside his mate before it was replaced by the thick, ridged head of the demon’s cock. He palmed Ciel’s thighs, drew them up towards his chest and held them pliable and spread to accommodate him as he sank inside finally, blissfully, enveloped snugly and slick with a mingling of lubrication. He stilled inside his mate as he hilted himself, growling breathily and kneading at Ciel’s flesh as he shook with the effort to restrain himself from simply pounding in and out of his mate brutally. Even as prepared as Ciel was, as soft and slippery and eager as his greedy body was hugging his cock, so tightly and rippling enticingly around it, it was still a painful first stretch, given the shape and size of his inhuman cock, and he didn’t want to rush to his own end and forget his mate’s needs. He wanted to watch him come undone slowly, wreck him over and over until he was spent and filled up with only Sebastian. He mouthed at Ciel’s pulse as he rolled his hips shallowly, shifting his length inside the smaller male teasingly.

Ciel’s shoulders dug into the soft mossy earth as he was thrust into at a maddeningly slow pace, his half-lidded eyes drifting from his lover’s painfully restrained face, to the noticeable bulge that moved under the skin of his belly as his mate buried himself to the hilt. It was a testament to his mate’s sizeable cock and it had him writhing and begging for more. His right foot caressed the side of his demon’s face, toes tangled in his long fringe while the other was licked, ticklishly at first, until a pitiful moan broke from his lips. Encouraged maybe by the sight of the wrecked youth under him, or the tightening and drawing in of the demon’s arousal into his heat, Sebastian traced a searing path with his hot tongue from heel to toe then flicked the tip before taking the big toe into his mouth altogether, sucking it sloppily and producing the lewdest noises and giving Ciel the most thrilling sensation of being devoured by the demon.. _M-more, Sebastian… lose yourself…_ , Ciel ordered through their bond. 

A slow shiver crawled down Sebastian’s spine, molten and tingling at the base of his tail and throbbing in his core. Compelled by his mate’s encouragement, he wrapped his hands firmly around Ciel’s hips, the large palms hot and smooth as they applied pressure on the attractive protrusion of bone there and his long, slim fingers dug in bruisingly to the fleshy globes of his mate’s backside. He used the grip to tilt Ciel’s hips up, maneuvering him carefully so as not to cause the smaller male any unnecessary discomfort and he slowly withdrew, the barbed ridges on his cock plucking at the soft, slick inner walls of Ciel’s body and he groaned low and guttural in his chest as he bent to bite at the boy’s inner thigh. He ran his tongue along the pulse there before he sunk his fangs in at the same time his hips snapped forward and greedily sucked at the wound as a wash of Ciel’s blood bathed his tongue in bittersweet divinity, thick and spiced with arousal and longing. And he was struck with an odd sense of deja vu, as if they’d done this before in this place that welcomed and embraced them, where silver roses bloomed without wilting and blue butterflies danced like falling stars overhead, the smell of Eden all around them; a paradise long lost that had been found again. 

A tremor of pleasure-pain shook Ciel’s body as he felt the fangs sink into his flesh; it rippled through him, conflicting between being sated and starving, desiring for and longing, needing to be desired. He craved more. Took more. Needed to give more as his body spasmed from the tempest of bliss that built at his core. He grasped the demon’s hand from his hip, and his lover’s movements did not falter as he dragged the sharpened claws down his chest, digging them in deeply, splitting and tearing the flesh and letting the blood run down and over his ribs as it dripped onto the earth. “Se-Sebastian, drink of me, my love,” he said with breathless desperation, recalling how Asmodeus had done so countless times millennia ago. 

Sebastian watched with predatory and half lidded eyes as Ciel guided his razored fingertips, parting his flesh, offering of himself without hesitation. It burned inside the Fallen, ached in the most profound and blissful of ways, heavy and light at once, hot and longing under his scale dappled skin. His hands slid beneath the dip of his mate’s back, arching him further as his mouth migrated, devouring the sanguine essence greedily, the wounds closing under his tongue only to be reopened with his sharp teeth again. The excess blood trailed in crimson tears over Ciel’s skin and Sebastian chased after it, droplets falling to the earth below and absorbed familiarly, the air around them humming pleasantly, as appreciative of the offering as he was. His hips rocked back and forward again at a steady and intense rhythm, angled just so so that the ridges of his cock could reach and rub against all the secret, perfect places inside his mate that made him writhe and keen breathlessly beneath the demon. “So sweet butterfly… So beautiful,” he murmured huskily, pupils thickly dilated, fingers caressing supple flesh, soothing as he led his mate to the precipice of pleasure at an excruciatingly delicious pace, until they were both trembling with it. 

He bowed over Ciel, wings stiff and spread widely, arched from his broad shoulders in an ethereal display , the feathers quivering as he breathed along the column of his mate’s neck, nose and lips brushing the bruise mottled skin tenderly. “Please sweetling,” he begged, desperate for Ciel’s peak, for the clenching hold that would tighten around his forming knot, would bind him to his mortal mate as surely as the vows on their skins, and welcome him, cradle him, and soothe the desperation in his blood for at least a time.

Seconds after he heard his mate’s guttural supplicating plea, Ciel groaned, rolling and twisting his hips to grind into his mate, to meet Sebastian’s thrusts, matching his momentum, tempting and enticing his climax. His body clenched around him, tightening and squeezing, beckoning the knot inside his heat, as he nipped at his mate’s neck, licked and sucked it, holding him firmly in a rough grip, his arms twined around his shoulders. He pulled back only a moment, mismatched eyes boring into the demon’s crimson depths and an exhausted, impish smile flickered on his face between ragged breaths, “Tell me… please what, Sebastian?” It couldn’t be helped; it was the last of Mammon’s effects surfacing, desperately seeking validation and worship, needing to be begged over and over again. 

“Come undone for me… Let me taste your soul darling… Please… Please, I need…” Sebastian panted, shaking as he fought off his own peak, his knot swelling and throbbing as he rocked inside Ciel. He let the bond spread wide between them, flooding it with the need inside him, sharing his desperation and devotion with his mate fully, letting it consume them both.

Whatever delicate, tenuous hold Ciel had on his restraint broke as Sebastian’s need filtered through their bond, deafening and explosive. The mortal felt his orgasm cresting, retreating and cresting again in a liquid rush of all-consuming, intense pleasure, until at last he shattered and lay boneless in his mate’s arms as his rapturous sobs filled the space between them. 

Sebastian’s growl was so low and deep, guttural and primal that it sounded like the roll of thunder; a storm was brewing in his breast and the lightning crackled through his veins, cauterized his nerves and seared through his blood as he slammed into his mate’s snug sheath. He hilted himself inside Ciel, knot flaring further and locking him in place as he came in thick waves, mouthing at the young man’s skin, his neck, chest and jaw and sought his lips with blind desperation, breathing Ciel’s breath and tasting his beautiful soul in his kiss, offered to him there on Ciel’s tongue, in his blood and skin and he could feel it resonating brightly like aurora on a clear night in the north, indigo and blue and breathtaking. And he could find no words, voiceless in the aftermath of his own peak, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need a voice to tell him. In the fathomless warmth of their bond, the words echoed in the language of angels again and again, _You are adored… You are loved… You belong… I will never let you go..._

“Never let me go…” Ciel mumbled like a prayer, like a mantra as he was cradled closely, lovingly and laid down reverently within Sebastian’s arms against the dewy moss that cooled his skin. They breathed in unison, basking in the semi-darkness and momentary respite from the itching greed that still lingered, that would demand to be sated again soon enough.

***

_Ciel hadn’t noticed when Asmodeus took his leave in the early hours of the morning to tend to his responsibilities in his garden, but was glad for the solitude so that he could bathe himself in their private lagoon without feeling so self-conscious. Still, he was hesitant to leave their bed; it smelled of his mate and in that there was something comforting to soothe his nerves of late. Ciel was perplexed by the quick shifts in his own disposition in the past week, he’d been short-tempered and tired, a little queasy yet ravenous. At first, he’d thought perhaps it had to do with his fatigue; his mate had been in quite a way lately, more possessive and protective than usual, insisting on leaving a trace of himself on Ciel’s body at all times and simply in a state of constant _need_. Ciel had made himself available, enjoying the intimacy of his mate’s unquenchable desire, but now that it seemed to have passed, he was left feeling out of sorts, both physically and emotionally. _

_Already bare from their lovemaking the previous night, Ciel walked somewhat stiffly to the nearby lagoon, smiled as he eased himself into its warmth, walking part way through so that the water came to his chest. His hands waded the surface of the crystal clear water littered with flower petals, literally thousands of them, in every colour imaginable, giving off a perfect cleansing bouquet as his toes dug into the soft sand underfoot. He reveled in the tranquility; one he’d not known among his kin on earth and was lost in thought as he stretched and moved with ease in the water’s weightlessness._

_Asmodeus watched his mate from the top of the waterfall, eyes as blue and clear as the water that churned the flower petals in the pool below. His nostril flared subtly as the scent of the younger male danced on the pleasant breeze that rustled through the plant life around them. It was sweeter somehow, honeyed with the most divine of aromas, new life. But that should be impossible… Even though he had spent his midcentury rut with his mate, Ciel was only mortal. Had he not been, it would not be unexpected._

_As he looked at him, he could see the flush of his skin, the healthy glow emanating from inside him and the subtle but wholly alluring plumping of his body. He felt what could only be pride in that, but he could not quite believe what for. His mate should not be… But perhaps his father had… He had to know, had to be sure. He slipped down silently from his perch into the pool at the far side and beneath the water. He glided beneath the surface until he reached his mate, coming up behind him, hands caressing over shapely hips and a softening belly._

_“You’re breathtaking my darling, did you know?” he murmured in Ciel’s ear from behind as his fingers spread over the young man’s belly, searching tenderly._

_Ciel shivered against his angel when his hot breath bathed the mortal’s ear and was a minute too late in realizing he was being touched as he watched Asmodeus’ fingers slide tenderly, reverently against his slightly protruding belly through the crystal clear fluid. He hoped the small bulge was only a trick of the water or perhaps a swelling from all the fruit his mate had fed him in between their numerous couplings to keep him nourished and energized. He desperately wanted to retain his lissome figure since it was the one his mate had fallen in love with, continued to praise and worship each time they were intimate. “N-no, Asmodeus… please… don’t look at me,” Ciel said abashed, gently shoving his mate away with his shoulder to disentangle himself from his hold._

_Asmodeus pursued him, caught him and drew him back in tenderly against his chest, arguing against the curve of his porcelain shoulder where the bonding mark he'd branded him with was displayed proudly, “Even if I don't look, it won't be less true my darling. You're beautiful.” He palmed Ciel's belly again, lower, spreading his fingers below his navel as he pressed in against his backside with familiar warmth and support. Then he felt it._

_It lit up under his fingertips, resonating brightly and sparking with delighted familiarity. It pulsed and he could suddenly hear it, the sudden and steady rhythm of a heartbeat that was neither Ciel's or his own; a new life. His breath hitched as an intense elation and pride swarmed in him and without realizing, he held him tighter._

_Ciel expelled the air from his lungs in a rush when his mate’s grip tightened around his midsection. “Wha- Asmodeus!? What are you… Oh!” His own hands fell to his belly, over the angel’s as he felt a fluttering, a warm tingling just under the skin, so gentle, almost like a butterfly’s wings caressing him from within. The feeling was both startling and frightening and it showed in his face when he turned to look at Asmodeus. The angel’s crystalline eyes shone with a light that glimmered with pride and something beyond love, something more than ecstatic devotion, and he could scarcely focus to make sense of it as the calm that had resided in their bond since last making love had been replaced with euphoria and bliss so potent it brought tears to the mortal’s eyes. Ciel trembled in the wake of such an overwhelming sensation, trying desperately to hold back the sobs as his chest heaved in small spurts against Asmodeus, “My love, what is it?”_

_Asmodeus pressed adoring kisses along Ciel’s shoulders, fingers still caressing over his belly with reverent pride. “It’s creation my darling, new life. I did not think it was possible between us, but, I can feel her. She recognizes me though she is still so small. Do you feel her?”_

_Ciel withdrew from Asmodeus, even though something at his core begged him not to, like something had tethered them more resolutely together; it was uncomfortable and slightly distressing to pull himself away. And if he was confused at first, this new longing and need only quickened his transition to upset. “You’re making fun of me…” he trailed softly, his head lowered, crestfallen, “because of the weight I’ve put on…” He brushed the angel’s hands from his belly and held his own midsection. “I don’t appreciate it, Asmodeus; what you’re saying, it’s impossible, so you needn’t be so cruel.”_

_The angel’s brow furrowed in concern as his mate pulled away from him, the accusations from the mortal making him frown. “I’d never mislead you in such a way. You are beautiful and inside you, something profound has taken root. I had not thought it was possible either my darling, but I can feel the truth of it. It is not uncommon among my kin as the sex of angels can be made fluid though procreation itself is a rare blessing. Perhaps it is the blood that flows in you that has made it possible or perhaps it is a gift from my father, or maybe it is a miracle in and of itself. Whatever it is, I am grateful. We will have a daughter. You must believe me,” he implored, moving towards his skittish mate cautiously as he withdrew, reaching out for him tentatively._

_There wasn’t a single trace of deception in his mate’s sparkling eyes when Ciel looked into them again, no falsehood in their bond which still echoed an absolute, deep-seated devotion, no faltering in the strong and steady heartbeat of his mate as he rested his head against his chest. “We will have a daughter?” Ciel mumbled, trying out the words as though he’d never spoken before. When he repeated them, it was a little louder, with a different emphasis, making the statement more profound, “ _We_ will have a daughter…” And as though the life within was desperate to make its presence known, there came a quickening, a gentle flutter giving way to a pulsing thrum, “I- I feel her… I feel _our daughter_.” He took his mate’s hand and put it back onto his body just above the coarse patch of hair where the sensation was making itself known most insistently. _

_Asmodeus smiled and drew his mate in again, holding him close and palming his belly protectively now that he’d been invited. “She’s beautiful like you, an angel with a soul and a living culmination of the love we share. You will make a lovely mother, you know?” he said as he inclined his head to press doting kisses under his mate’s ear and along the column of his neck, “I did not think I would have any more room in my heart to love another as wholly as I love you, but she is already in my heart. Thank you for this precious gift; I cannot express the joy this brings me. My darlings, you are the world to me.”_


	32. Raven's Lodge XXX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!   
> Here's another smut-spattered, angst-free, hint-laden, domesticity-filled chapter update for you :) We're really **REALLY** happy to be able to give you a chapter like this after everything you've endured in the past month! Thank you so much for sticking around for the very necessary, but hard-to-read parts. We really appreciate all your support! 
> 
> Much love,   
> Chrome & Xander
> 
>  
> 
> **Music**
> 
> Sebastian~ [ I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjnmICxvoVY)  
> Ciel~ [Follow You by Bring Me the Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfE-tV8Cq00)

Sebastian woke abruptly, an odd fluttering elation in his belly and a thickness in his chest, heavy, but not burdensome. It was profound and he could not quite fathom where the feeling came from. He half sat up, propping himself up on one elbow on the soft moss bed that he and Ciel were laying in and looked at the younger male as he slept peacefully. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, comfortable, serene and absolutely exquisite. Sebastian swallowed against a lump in his throat that had formed of its own accord, choked by emotion he couldn’t define. It was a sort of prideful feeling, but it was not selfish in nature and he didn’t understand what had caused it, where it had come from until he felt another wash of it through the bond he shared with his mate and a part of him deep within his core responded in kind.

He didn’t consciously move his hand, but it gravitated to the exposed and vulnerable expanse of Ciel’s soft flat belly, spreading his fingers over the flesh protectively as if expecting something, but he didn’t know what it was. He swallowed again, looking down at his hand before he looked back at his lover’s sleeping face, leaning in over him, ensnared as his fingers ever so gently kneaded at the young man’s skin, tenderly and the odd emotion in him surged forth, spread through him until he could feel nothing else. His breath hitched as a mercurial droplet spattered onto Ciel’s cheek, followed by another and rolled down, becoming solid once it left his mate’s warm, sleep flushed skin, cloudy silver-blue pearls beading and scattering to the mossy earth below and more fell from his own cheeks and chin as Ciel stirred under him. He watched with profound fascination, unable to find his voice as he cried tears that he was not sure belonged to him; they were most certainly meant for someone else he could not recall.

“... Couldn’t be happier… You will make a great… Mmm… Love you so much…” Ciel mumbled holding his flat belly as he turned over, looking to nuzzle into Sebastian’s chest, to inhale the heavenly scent that permeated his mate’s skin. It was when he felt a reverberated echo of a small shuddering breath emanating from the demon that he was pulled from his pleasant reminiscence and woke up momentarily confused by the dissonance between how happy his mate had been in his memory, and the breathing he’d recently come to associate with mourning. He blinked a few times before he found himself face to face with Sebastian and was stunned when he was met with glossy eyes and darkened scaled cheeks that shimmered in the wetness that lingered there. He brought a hand gently to his lover’s face to wipe away what could only have been tears moments ago, “Sebastian… what’s wrong?” 

Sebastian’s brows furrowed and he leaned into Ciel’s touch, his own soot stained hand rising to cover Ciel’s tenderly, a sort of confused reverence reflected in the garnet of his eyes that seemed so deep, they were nearly violet. He blinked, the prismed mercury of his tears clinging to and clumping his long lashes as he met Ciel’s eyes and a slow soft smile spread over his bowed lips. “Nothing is wrong my darling. Everything is perfect. I was merely overcome by the emotion flowing through our bond for a time. Are you alright? Did you rest well?” he replied, his voice coming out husky and a little strained, the emotion still simmering inside him, pulsing and pleasantly warm. His wings shuffled as he hovered over his mate, touching his hand gently, guiding it to his lips so that he could kiss the palm adoringly.

_Mhmm… So well, thanks to you,_ Ciel replied through their bond, glad to be able to communicate through it with such clarity again. _I missed you so fucking much, Sebastian_ , he told his mate, getting up on his elbows, trying to press himself closer, tighter against his spouse. He traced his lover’s bottom lip with his finger, then strained his muscles to brush his lips softly against his demon’s, teasing him with gentle licks and humming against them before covering Sebastian’s mouth with his own, kissing him long, and slow and deep. He moaned as his soft tongue moved against the demon’s forked one in lush strokes, pulling Sebastian’s body against his own. 

_As I missed you my darling,_ he voiced through the bond in response, a low, appreciative growl sounding as Ciel’s tongue stroked against his own. He cupped the back of his mate’s head with one hand, the other crawling over Ciel’s side and kneading tenderly. Laying him back onto the mossy bed to relieve the strain on him, Sebastian continued the kiss, slow and languid as lazy arousal spread in warm waves beneath his skin, mingling with the lingering elation that had woken him. _You are so precious, so lovely. You’re irreplaceable._

Ciel threw a slender, almost quivering leg over Sebastian’s hip and pulled him closer still until their arousals accidentally brushed one another; Ciel’s still making its mind up about waking, but the demon’s…. It was warm, no, hot to the point of discomfort and visibly pulsing against the mortal’s belly. There was a small catch of surprise in Ciel’s throat as he tenderly stroked the length of Sebastian’s incredibly stiff, prominent erection. “Has it gone down at all in the past two weeks? Does _it_ hurt? What can I do for you, my love?”

Sebastian released a heavy breath, a deep rumbling purr echoing in his chest as Ciel’s fingers stroked his arousal and he caressed over his hips and thighs in return, dragging his dark claws lightly over his lover’s flesh and reveling in the shiver the motion incited in him. “Mmn it worsened the longer it was left unsated and it aches, but it is nothing in comparison to the desolation I felt in the withdrawal of our bond,” he murmured in honest answer, voice guttural and vaguely hoarse, “As for what you can do for me… If you’d be so kind as to turn around for me my darling, I’d very much like to taste inside you.”

A momentary pang of something like remorse overcame Ciel for the part he played in his mate’s pain, but this place, their own piece of Heaven, their Eden, was all about making amends; they’d forgiven one another and so he powered through the troublesome sensation, cradling Sebastian’s face fondly in his hands and pressed his lips to the devil’s forehead. “Turn around for you, hmn… and will I get the pleasure of tasting you as well, my love?” 

“I hadn’t wanted to demand such of you, but if you desire it, I’ve hardly cause for complaint,” the Fallen replied in a silky lilt, a cheeky and feral smirk quirking the corner of his lips. He ran his tongue over his sharp teeth predatorily, watching Ciel as his face hovered some inches over his own and gave his mate’s hips a firm squeeze and rolled his own up against Ciel’s pert rear.

“How do you know it wouldn’t be an enormous turn on to hear you demand such things of me, Sebastian. You know well enough that I adore the taste of you,” Ciel said getting to his knees and positioning himself so that he straddled his mate’s chest facing away from him. “In fact...” he grasped his mate’s inhuman cock with both hands, one atop the other and bent at the waist to breathe warmly onto the spongy head before licking a stripe up and over it, “I would very much enjoy being ordered around by you.” 

“Is that so sweetling? Then by all means, don’t keep me waiting,” Sebastian said, rubbing his palms up and down Ciel’s thighs before delivering a smarting blow to either cheek of his rear with a salaciously broad grin. He groped the soft globes and kneaded the burning sting out of them as he spread them to admire the blushing and eagerly twitching hole nestled between them. 

“Bon appetit,” he murmured under his breath before he drew Ciel’s hips back and craned his neck to press his mouth to the little opening, groaning appreciatively as his mate’s natural flavour burst over his tongue and made his own cock twitch with feverish excitement in Ciel’s grip.

Ciel winced only a moment after the smack to his rear before a rough, eager moan left his parted lips. “Ah… Mmm… what a lewd demon I’m bonded to…” he mumbled against Sebastian’s cock before skimming his tongue just under the flared tip of the head. His back arched and he breathlessly pressed himself against Sebastian’s mouth as his own hands gave a harsh squeeze and twist of the devil’s length, beckoning a dribble of precum from the slit. The demon rolled his hips beneath him, pushing his cock tip to the mortal’s face, effectively smearing the sweet fluid over his lips and chin. Ciel opened his mouth the second time Sebastian’s hips came up and trapped the hot member within, hollowing his cheeks as he bobbed his head, dragging his tongue and teeth along the underside. 

The demon growled his approval, rocking his hips and pressing his length insistently against his mate’s clever little tongue. Lewd slurping sounds rose from where Sebastian’s face was buried between Ciel’s plump cheeks in return as his own forked tongue prodded at the eager little entrance, slithering inside and flickering against the sensitive inner walls as it sought out Ciel’s prostate. His hands continued their kneading, massaging flesh and bone, muscle and sinew as it flexed in his grip. _You’re delicious my darling. Your body is so eager, positively precious in its longing,_ he whispered huskily through the bond, unable to properly voice the sentiment with his mouth occupied as it was. 

_So good... You spoil me equally with your love and your lust. I won’t ever be able to get enough of you, Sebastian_ , Ciel responded through their bond, flattening his tongue against his lover’s cock, running it up and down the length, bathing it in warmth and spit, his right hand following its progress while his left cupped the demon’s heavy sac. He squeezed it with just enough pressure to send Sebastian’s hips forward so that he could take the demonic cock into his mouth again, letting the head rub sensually against the ridges of his palate until it stopped and prodded the back of his throat. He jerked the cock roughly in and out, the slurping and sucking noises encouraging the relaxation of his throat and deepening the motion each time until his eyes glistened with tears and he moaned wantonly, sending vibrations up along the demon’s arousal. He pulled up on the tip again, sealing his lips over the pulsing member, thrusting his tongue at the head in sharp strokes, then swirling it over the swollen head, sending shocks of his own lust for his spouse racing up his chest. The demon’s tongue sank relentlessly into him, caressing and lapping at his most pleasurable spots, causing him to buck and press his hips back, fucking himself against his mate’s face. _Sebastian… please… more…_

Sebastian hummed gutturally in acknowledgement, pressing his tongue in as far as possible and lashing the forked tip over Ciel’s prostate with brutal accuracy and merciless pressure. Ciel shuddered against him and he could feel his lover’s jaw slacken as he became distracted. His hips thrust up, pressing more of his cock into that sinful mouth, drawing back only to rock forward again moments later. His tail curled around Ciel’s side and slithered down along his belly to wrap around his straining manhood, squeezing and relaxing in tandem with the stroking of his tongue and the bucking of his hips. And he shared his pleasure through the bond in heady waves, taking in Ciel’s in return, groaning ferally and grasping the flushed and already marked cheeks of his mate’s backside and kneading with bruising firmness as he used the grip to steady him. _You taste like sin and salvation sweetling… A truly divine recipe._

Ciel was so overwhelmed by the heady pleasure making itself known inside and outside as well as through their bond that his thighs were shaking as he tightened and pulsed his inner muscles around the demon’s tongue. A sheen of sweat formed around his hairline as he panted, his ragged breaths interrupting whatever rhythm he erratically managed with his mouth around his mate’s cock. His head fell between his shoulders with a long keening moan when Sebastian’s tongue sank into him one more time and he pumped the fallen’s member harshly, furiously, inches from his mouth as it throbbed wickedly in his hand. _Love, Nearly… I’m… Oooh... _And with one final push back, he writhed on his lover’s tongue, crying out as his own essence spurt onto both their stomachs in thick, warm stands. “Come for me, Sebastian,” he ordered gasping for breath, merciless in the force with which he drove the demon’s cock through his slicked grip.__

__Sebastian came on command with a hoarse growl, back arching and his hips snapped forward and stuttered as his release took him. His fingers spasmed on Ciel’s hips and he withdrew his tongue with a lewd slurping sound. It took some minutes for him to come around again, kneading the bruises out of his mate’s skin with fond tenderness before he maneuvered them both into a more suitable position, cradling Ciel to his chest so he could move him towards the crystalline pool embracing and nourishing the waterfall._ _

__“Today is for you my darling, what should you like to do once we’ve bathed and dressed?” he inquired as he sank into the pool with his mate, sighing with pleasure as the lukewarm, but soothing liquid enveloped them familiarly._ _

__As they sank deeper into the welcoming water, Ciel ran his tongue over his own lips for what must have been the tenth time, reveling in the taste left behind by the demon’s seed that he had mostly swallowed. “Hmm… can we go on a date? Like a real proper human one? Maybe an amusement park?” he mused out loud, biting the inside of his cheek, “Or a club?”_ _

__Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, continuing to massage his mate's skin in the water, “If that's what you'd like my darling. I've not been on a proper human date before.”_ _

__Sebastian’s reply made Ciel chuckle softly into his hand as he looked on with affection and mirth dancing in his bright eyes, “Am I to understand that you’ve been on a _proper demon date_ then? How does one court another demonically?” _ _

__“Mm I've been courted once or twice. There is a fair bit more blood and far less hand holding as I recall. Not nearly as entertaining for you mortals I'm afraid. Then again, I would say I've not done too poorly in courting you all things considered,” the demon replied, cupping and pouring water over Ciel's head, “I'll admit I've made some missteps, but I'm learning to be better. You're so much more complex than my kin, feel so much more than what I'm used to.”_ _

__“You’ve done fine, my love,” Ciel answered, closing his eyes and ducking his head as the water ran down his face and stuck like tiny crystals to his lashes when he blinked them open again. “But I think you’re putting me on a bit… Come, tell me, I won’t be jealous; surely you’ve been courted more than twice, and more to the point, with all your experience, you must have done your fair share of courting- both with my kind and your own.”_ _

__Sebastian half smiled, “You would be surprised… I’m a rather intimidating partner to pursue for a mating or at least I was once. I was not easily _wooed_ and my own interest was never in anything more than swift passions until you sweetling,” he answered, brows furrowing as a niggling of memory itched at the back of his mind. He was quite sure what he’d said was the truth, but there was an odd sense that perhaps he had at one time courted another, though he could not recall any details, a name or a body of such a lover. Much like the feeling he’d woken with, it was there, but it was not as if he were simply feeling the brush of another life or the remnants of a lingering dream that could have been, but never was. _ _

__“Pfft.. intimidating!” Ciel chortled, tilting his head coyly and pinched Sebastian’s cheek, “You’re such a big bad demon, aren’t you? I was how old when I invited you into my bed? Three? Not in _that_ way of course, but still… I had you wrapped around my little finger…” He smiled fondly at his spouse, pushing the long black fringe from his face with gentle affection. He was still piecing together whatever past life he’d shared with Asmodeus, not yet ready to discuss it with his mate until it made perfect sense, especially since the demon himself hadn’t brought it up; but he was fairly certain he accurately remembered and understood their stolen moments in this life. _ _

__Sebastian’s brows rose in momentary surprise before he lowered his lashes at his mate, catching Ciel’s hands in his own and drawing them back around his neck as he pressed in closer to the young man. “Mm, that’s true, but you were always unique my darling, even then, small as you were. And I’d never have harmed you. You were always so precious. And you were never afraid of me. Do you remember all the times we spent together then?” he replied in low, husky tones, caressing Ciel’s sides affectionately as he remembered the many times he’d gone to the little boy back then before Vincent had barred them from one another. How bitter he’d grown, how hungry, and how lonely; how he’d missed him._ _

__Ciel closed his eyes and brought his forehead to his mate’s, rubbing the baby fine hair at Sebastian’s nape between thumb and forefinger. “I remember, now,” he responded with increased tenderness. The memories evoked a small surge of warmth that spread just under the surface of his skin, the hundreds of stolen and shared moments between them conjuring a renewed intimacy. He hadn’t realize how much he’d longed for his mate during their separation, but from here on out, he refused to be apart from him and fully intended to ask Sebastian to share his immortality with him once all the pieces of his past life fit together in a cohesive manner._ _

__“But coming back to this date of ours, maybe we should pass on the amusement park, as it’s December,” he put his finger up before he could be interrupted, “But you're not getting out of that one, I'll take you come summertime.” Ciel didn’t really care where they went, he was just excited by the prospect of taking out his mate and showing him off a little. “Could you be persuaded in visiting a museum with me? After you clothed me, that is?”_ _

__“Of course sweetling. Wherever you go, I will follow,” Sebastian responded, inclining his head in order to press his mouth to Ciel’s collarbone affectionately, humming his appreciation before drawing away a few moments later. He held Ciel’s hands in his and guided him back out of the pool, the water beading and falling from their skins, returning to the garden around them and leaving them only damp in the cool blue light._ _

__“What do you wish to be clothed in my darling? Shall I come up with something suitable or do you have something in mind?” he asked, looking Ciel’s body over unabashedly, ignoring the warm tingling in his skin and the twitch of interest from his lazily half-hard cock._ _

__Ciel bit his lip, looking over Sebastian’s body with an almost regretful expression; maybe they should just stay here. He felt suddenly selfish for wanting to drag the demon out when he was obviously still _needing_. “Sebastian, we don’t have to…” he began, stepping closer to his mate, standing flushed against his damp skin, Sebastian’s hardening erection trapped between the both of them as Ciel pulled him closer by palming his mate’s muscular backside, “I don’t want you to hurt.”_ _

__An endeared expression spread over the demon’s face and he shook his head. “You needn’t fret sweetling. I will always be wanting, even when I no longer have Greed running through my veins. I _want_ to go on this mortal date; there will be time later for the others. There will always be time; after all, we have eternity,” he assured smoothly, rubbing his hands up and down Ciel’s back with soothing familiarity._ _

__The mortal shivered in his lover’s hands, laid his own over the demon’s and gave them a squeeze. “I’m holding you to that, husband,” Ciel answered, standing on the tips of his toes to peck Sebastian on the cheek, “If you’re sure then, something casual, yet sophisticated would be nice. And please, no Victorian or Cosplay-type clothing!”_ _

__“So spoiled. Had you been born into that era, you’d have fit right in my darling. You looked lovely,” Sebastian said, an amused half smirk on his lips and mischief dancing in the garnet depths of his gaze. He ran his fingers along Ciel’s skin; shoulders, chest, back, down his arms to his wrists, fabric whispering together beneath his fingertips, a soft dark charcoal turtleneck wrapping itself fondly around his mate’s torso as Sebastian’s hands moved on. His fingers slid over the young man’s hips, ghosting over his backside, down his thighs, his legs, resting just above his knees as the sleek, fitted black slacks painted themselves over Ciel’s lower half, tapered at the ankle where fashionable low cut boots covered his feet. Sebastian straightened, finishing by tying the belt at the waist of a thick woven, double-breasted, thigh length navy coat that had taken up residence over top of the outfit Sebastian had chosen for his mate._ _

__“Is this more to your liking my darling?” he asked as he smoothed his hands over Ciel’s chest while his own clothing crawled over his body, wine-coloured buttoned shirt, black slacks and an equally black pea coat over it all as was appropriate for the season._ _

__“It’s marginally better,” Ciel teased, taking a step back to assess his mate. Pride swelled in his chest as the lust crawled and flowed in his veins, illuminating the gilded marriage marks intricately weaved on what little skin he was still showing and producing a faint burning sensation in his bonding scar. “I’m going to have to keep you on a short leash, Sebastian; you’re utterly too tempting looking like this,” he took his mate’s hand, holding it at arm’s length, craning his neck to have a look from all angles again, licking his lips deliberately. “We’re going to the Southampton City Art Gallery, by the way, so whenever you’re ready…”_ _

__Sebastian inclined his head and batted his lashes demurely at the other male, a handsome smile ghosting his bowed lips, fingertips brushing the white runes lit and unfurled beneath his lover’s skin. “You need no leash my darling, I’ll not forget to whom I belong,” he said as he offered his arm to Ciel, guiding his hand to the crook of his elbow before he opened the doorway once again._ _

____

***

Ciel had only wandered through the Southhampton Gallery once, but it had been for a quick acquisition for his mother, so he hadn’t taken the time to admire the other works. He’d suggested they take a tour, not only because he quite liked learning about art, but it also seemed to irritate Sebastian somewhat to have to listen to someone drone on about some of the more timeless pieces; and a slightly irritated Sebastian amused the mortal maybe more than it should. A steady stream of mutters and less than courteous words could be heard under the demon’s breath as they neared a particular picture and Ciel squeezed his mate’s hand in warning, though he was smirking at some of the clever whispered snarky comments.

“... and this Delvaux work entitled [A Siren in Full Moonlight](https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/a-siren-in-full-moonlight-17435) is the epitome of mythological beauty. His rendition of this grecian enchantress precisely demonstrates the perfect proportions of the female form and is likely to be the way they would look should they exist this day and age…” 

Sebastian snorted derisively at the tour guide’s words, nudging his mate as he inclined his head a bit to murmur to Ciel, “Tell me darling, would you say this piece is an adequate reflection of a Siren’s true form?” He wrapped his arm more firmly around the young man, palming Ciel’s side idly as he spoke to him, eying the work in question from beneath lowered lashes.

Ciel wrinkled his nose in distaste and his brows lowered and pinched together. There was a familiar sensation of his skin tightening, like something was crawling just under the surface of it, “Hardly, though I’d have been less inclined to have wanted to pimp you out if she had.” He met the tour guide’s annoyed look as her eyes came upon them and smile weakly at her in apology. 

“Indeed, I am most grateful you decided against that particular business venture. Sirens are even uglier between their thighs than they are in the face… They’ve another set of _teeth_ down below, you know… Most unpleasant, I must say,” Sebastian replied with a dark smirk, sending a cheeky and challenging wink at the woman that was glaring at them, not at all inclined to apologize as he gave his mate an affectionate squeeze.

“And how would you know about this… this unpleasantness?” Ciel whispered, raising a shapely brow, his hands coming up to pull his mate more closely as a surge of possessiveness made itself known through their bond at the very thought of his mate being intimate with another. 

“Too much fairy wine and a lost wager with a Seelie Warlock. Clever bastards, the Seelie, like to play games to amuse themselves. You needn’t feel jealous though sweetling, it was a wholly unpleasant experience for both parties involved, I assure you. When the Siren revealed what lay betwixt her thighs, well… I daresay I may have reacted poorly,” Sebastian responded with a pleasant warmth spreading in his chest before he turned his gaze back to the tour guide as she cleared her throat in a most unladylike fashion. He bat his lashes demurely and smiled viciously, clearly unappreciative of her continued interruption of he and Ciel’s date, “Something in your throat miss? Perhaps you’d like to take a break and have a drink, I’m sure we can find our own way around from here.”

Ciel snorted, entirely amused by his demon’s snark. “You have a piss-poor attitude,” he said playfully, pushing a finger into Sebastian’s chest, “How am I going to be able to take you any- Ooh!” His finger dropped from his mate’s torso and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the adjacent room, and stopping stalk-still before the incomplete Perseus series painted by Burne-Jones. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? Did you know these were supposed to be mine? They were offered to me as a courting gift, but I refused them. I didn’t want to lead the Duke on… regrettable, really… ” he spoke in a quiet tone, admiring the cool colours of the oil paintings. 

“Hmm,” the Fallen hummed as he pressed himself up against Ciel’s back, arms holding him around the middle while he rested his chin on the shorter male’s shoulder and looked at the collection, “Do you want them my darling?” 

“They aren’t for sale anymore, love,” he sighed with a hint of regret, turning his head to the side and kissing Sebastian’s cheek, then the corner of his lips. 

Sebastian smirked, “They’re already yours. Are there others you’d like for your collection? Perhaps something from the older pieces? There are relics here, can you feel them?”

“Mine? You can’t possibly mean…” Ciel turned in the demon’s arms, his eyes lit with mischief, as he lowered his voice, “Sebastian, that’s _stealing_. I thought your kind would be offended by such an act; but if you’re not, then by all means, lead the way to the relics.” 

Sebastian chuckled, “It’s only offensive when stealing from our kin. It hardly requires consideration when retrieving such items from undeserving creatures. So few mortals properly appreciate the beauty in them,” he said amusedly, caressing his hand up and down Ciel’s back affectionately as he led the way, casting a look over his shoulder at the petite, dark-haired young man that had been shadowing them since they’d left Stonehenge. Their matching garnet gazes met for a brief moment, communicating without words before the demon’s attention was back on his mate.

He guided Ciel into another large room filled with artifacts and relics in glass cases and lining the walls, displayed pristinely with little plaques describing the pieces, the eras and cultures they belonged to. Sebastian shook his head, chuckling under his breath, and playing tour guide, pointing things out and explaining how wrong the information on some of the plaques was, enjoying how Ciel smiled in response to his sarcastic commentary and comedic corrections.

He couldn’t feel the pull of the relics before Sebastian had brought him to _that_ room, but once he had, the draw had been instantaneous, had stolen his breath and filled him with a possessive want that nearly rattled his small frame. Ciel left the demon’s side, all but ran the length of the room and put shaking hands to the glass box that encased an ancient resin-stained clay platter. Its intricate darker designs swirled along the outer rim and spilled over onto the underside like waves washing up the shore of the sea. Aptly enough, the basin area of the dish depicted two ornamental fish linked head to tail in something like an infinity symbol. 

_Ciel shook the sand out of his sandals and adjusted his sackcloth tunic as he neared the market nervously with his mate. He paused, narrowing his eyes dubiously as though he was in search of someone among the crowd and perhaps he was; at only sixteen years of age, he’d gained quite the reputation for being a criminal. Most of his childhood had been spent pickpocketing in this very market, while he’d spent his adolescence swindling the merchants and was worried that some of his previously harsher targets would recognize him and demand their pound of flesh. Worse still, he worried about the embarrassment this would cause the angel to be reminded that his mortal beloved had been a petty thief._

_“Perhaps we should come another day, Asmodeus, the market is rather busy today. Let us go back home and I’ll stroke your… _feathers_ just the way you like,” Ciel purred, threading his slender fingers along the arch of the downy wings. _

_The angel’s eyes were soft as he looked at his petite mate, stroking a hand down his back soothingly and shuddering at the touch to the pale feathered appendages. “As lovely as that sounds my darling, there’s no reason to be nervous. I should like to see the wares here, you’ve made it all sound so curious. Come now, show me,” he coaxed quietly, pressing his mate forward tenderly._

_Ciel moved almost shyly among the crowd, trying as much as possible not to touch anyone as his eyes wandered curiously over the assortment of articles, linens and spices displayed attractively in the small stands and tables. At times his hand dithered over foodstuffs such as figs, barley and biscuits, but only out of the habit of having to steal to feed himself; since becoming acquainted with his guardian angel, he’d not felt properly hungry, in fact, he’d been sated in every way it was possible. And yet, he still craved **them** … the relics belonging to his family, he was entitled to them, wasn’t he? _

_Four stalls away a man stood up on a stool cupping a hand to his mouth while his other held up a clay serving platter, “Heirlooms! Memorabilia! And other objects blessed by Christ himself!”_

_A determined expression replaced Ciel’s shy one as he strode over to the man with purposeful strides, pulling the angel behind him. A crowd had quickly formed around the merchant, restricting access to all his trinkets and items. Ciel stood on his toes, craned his neck and still couldn’t see a thing. “I need to get closer, Asmodeus…”_

_Asmodeus nodded, moving to make way for his mate, the people around them shying away from the angel unconsciously as he urged them back, assisting his lover to the stall Ciel wanted. “What is it my darling? Has something caught your eye? Your father’s things?” he asked curiously, sensing that among the many the proprietor was selling, only the one he held in his hand had legitimately been touched by his mortal brother, only the lacquered clay smelled of divinity like his lover._

_“Which is it?” Ciel asked the merchant aggressively, tapping his foot and crossing his arms over his chest, “Which of these things is legitimately blessed by Christ?”_

_“All of them, my precocious little man. All of them have been consecrated by our Saviour. All of them possess the divine properties that will bring you good fortune,” the vendor answered pompously, waving a hand towards a nearby table where there were small silk bags filled with various unknowns, stones that had been smoothed by the water, scraps of metal that could be worn as jewellery and cuts of wood most likely belonging to a shepherd's staff._

_“You’re lying,” Ciel accused the man, then pointed to the table, “I feel nothing for these. Now, be a good **Christian** and tell the truth before I have my mate forcibly take it from you.” _

_Asmodeus came to stand behind his mate, wings half-spreading and made visible to the merchant whose eyes widened and he took a nervous step back, visibly swallowing. “I would suggest you hand over what rightfully belongs to my mate honestly,” he said, narrowing his blue eyes at the man in warning._

_The merchant swallowed hard and deposited the platter onto the table along with the other trinkets and retrieved a similar looking dish from beneath a cloth. “That one,” he said, pointing to the platter on the table, “Is the false one, I keep the real one hidden in case of thieves.” He handed Ciel the dish that was concealed in linen, “Now, if you’ll be so kind, you’re taking away from my business…”_

_Ciel put up a finger to the vendor, depositing the dish into Asmodeus’ outstretched hands and delicately removed the covering. He knew before even looking that it was the wrong object. This one held none of the sanctity that the chalice had held and he confirmed as much when he examined the dish; gone were the intricate stains, the center of the plate displayed flowers rather than the depictions of the fish that his father had multiplied at the wedding in Cana. Naturally, he’d not been there, nor had his mother; but Peter had spoken highly of the event, had described every miracle fondly to him as a child. He removed the dish from his mate’s possession and slammed it hard against the solid ground, shattering it at the vendor’s feet. “I gave you a chance, merchant,” he warned darkly before looking sidelong at his mate._

_Asmodeus stepped forward, eyes narrowed dangerously and lips downturned with a disappointed frown. “How selfish you are, how greedy. You are full of sin. To keep that which is not honestly yours and to lie when confronted is disheartening. Give me that which my mate has requested now and repent for your foolishness,” he ordered, reaching to forcibly take the platter the merchant had so cunningly switched with the other previously._

_“N-no!” the merchant cried, visibly upset by the angel’s words, “It’s mine. I acquired it legally, I paid a hefty price for it. If it is to be taken from me for nothing, none will have it.” With that he grabbed the platter before the angel could take it and flung it towards the wall some feet away from the young boy and his mate._

Ciel’s breath fogged the glass before him as he felt around the clear encasement, testing its resistance and strength. He threw his head over his shoulder suspiciously and narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired man that had walked by the exit of the room and had disappeared before they could make eye contact. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Sebastian were being followed and it unsettled him because he could not understand why the stranger’s proximity was as familiar if not more so than the relic. He shook his head to focus on the task at hand, nearly screaming his need through his bond with the demon, _I need this. It’s mine. It belongs to me, Sebastian._

Sebastian felt the urgency through their bond, was drawn and compelled by the words, a strange sense of familiarity echoing in him as the item itself seemed to thrum with a pleasant call. _As you like my darling,_ he returned as he moved swiftly, fingers lifting away the case, retrieving the holy platter and replacing the glass again with inhuman speed and delicacy before any alarm could be sounded.

Ciel accepted the platter from his mate and held it reverently to his chest as though siphoning its divinity through his layers of clothing and skin. “Thank you,” he whispered ,making room in his jacket for the relic as his other hand sought Sebastian’s, “It was my grandmother’s; she’d brought it when she had attended that dreadful wedding. I thought it had been destroyed by the merchant!” 

“Anything for you my darling,” Sebastian murmured, confusion flickering in the depths of his eyes, uncertain as to what life Ciel was describing. It was certainly not this one, but now was not the time to question him further about it. Instead, he threaded his fingers tightly through his mate’s, pulled him closer and led him away from the exhibit and out of the gallery altogether, unconcerned by the familiar presence that followed them, moving fluidly towards a destination that Ciel unconsciously was projecting to him through their bond.

***

Demon airlines was definitely a preferable way to fly, Ciel thought as he was set back onto his feet just outside his condo in London. Coming to the flat would allow them to change into something suitable for the club and deposit his relic in his office; he tried not to dwell on the last point since they would have time to make the necessary restorations _together_. His hand hovered above the door handle to this office the briefest of moments before it opened of its own accord revealing the collection of Perseus he’d coveted at the Gallery. He deposited the platter on his favored shelf, next to the crown of Eve (hadn’t he left that in Eden?) and returned to the livingroom, where Sebastian sat, one leg crossed handsomely over the other on the sofa, lazily scrolling through the hundreds of options on satellite television. It was so domestic, so simple, that Ciel felt his heart swell with affection. “Sebastian… the pictures, how? When?”

“Hm?” Sebastian hummed in question, settling on a movie with a rather interesting and curious title, turning his gaze to his mate before he had actually caught more than a glimpse of the film, answering further, “Ah, an admirer of yours. I’m sure he’ll reveal himself when he’s ready. Would you care to watch this film with me since there is some time before we can proceed with our date. It’s called… Camp Raven’s Lodge XXX. According to the description, it’s a steamy and romantic coming of age tale involving two teens at camp for the summer.” He gestured for Ciel to join him on the sofa, careful to keep the letters that had been placed on the coffee table previous hidden beneath the edge of the furniture, subtly toeing them further in order to keep them from Ciel’s view. Today was for his mate; his employers and everyone else could wait.

Ciel smirked when he took notice of the nine-hundred-channel his mate had settled on and took his seat next to the demon, leaning into him and kneading his thigh firmly. “Yeah, sure… why not?” he chuckled as a cheesy acoustic guitar theme sounded from the surround sound speakers of the condo. 

Sebastian found himself smiling, draping an arm around his lover and leaning back into the cushions comfortably as he settled in to watch the movie with Ciel. “Is it common for film titles to end in a triple ‘x’? Is that some sort of production signature?” he questioned curiously as he turned his attention back to the appropriately attractive young men playing the main characters in the film.

“Are you joking right now, Sebastian? You seriously don’t know what this is, oh fearsome demon of Lust?” Ciel said, squirming as both actors ran into the shelter of a showering cabin and began stripping down. He felt a flush dancing over his cheeks and gripped his mate’s leg with a bit more force, surely leaving crescent marks on the demon’s skin even through his pants. His toes curled and his heart rate accelerated once the smaller of the characters was thrust up against the shower stall and began moaning in earnest. The mortal sank deeper into the sofa cushions, reaching for a decorative pillow at the far end of the seat and placed it strategically in his lap as if it could actually conceal his arousal. 

Sebastian lowered his lashes at Ciel, nostrils flaring as he scented his mate’s arousal, and inclined his head as he watched Ciel attempting to cover his lap inconspicuously with the decorative pillow. “Mm, it was not an inquiry made in jest. As you may recall, my accommodations previous to becoming your property were rather void of entertainment, especially once a certain little mortal was no longer allowed to visit with me,” he replied with a knowing smirk, teasingly caressing his fingertips along the side of Ciel’s neck and behind his ear. 

“I’m sure given the turn this plot has taken, that you can deduce the meaning of triple ‘x’ now?” Ciel knew he would be unable to hide his arousal, knew Sebastian smelled it, sensed it through their bond, felt the heat flare up his neck and the tips of his ears as he touched him. Still, he kept his eyes plastered to the television, his pupils dilating in interest as he brought the demon’s hand under the decorative pillow to rub against his pulsing erection so there could be no mistaking his meaning. 

“Mmhm, I think I’ve _grasped_ the concept,” the Fallen said with a devilish curl to his lips, kneading at the throbbing heat between his mate’s legs appreciatively, uncrossing his own legs to somewhat relieve the pressure accumulating in his own trousers. “It seems so very _innocent…_ I can see the appeal,” he breathed silkily into Ciel’s ear as he leaned in closer to him, brushing his nose lightly behind the soft, pinked shell and inhaling the bittersweet scent that clung to his lover. 

Sighing pleasantly, Ciel closed his eyes, slumping more comfortably as he spread his legs, resting his head against the back of the sofa. “It’s hardly innocent, Sebastian, look at the way they’re… Nnngh...” he whined, biting his lip and squirming under the pressure of the demon’s soot-tipped fingers. He buried his face into his mate’s side, embarrassed for being so _mortal_ , so young and inexperienced in his sexuality, then deciding to use it to his advantage as he spoke through their bond, _Please, love, tease me, toy with me the way you did the first time, without physically touching me… I’d rather watch you, instead of this..._

Sebastian’s grin broadened predatorily, a low purring growl of approval rumbling in his chest as his tongue flickered out to tease Ciel’s ear. “You like to be at my mercy my darling?” he murmured lowly, voice silky and guttural as he spoke, “Do you _feel_ me?” As the last of his words filtered between his lips like a lustful prayer, he allowed tendrils of his own desire and pleasure to seep through their bond, impressing themselves on his mate as he retracted his hand to instead run his fingers up his own thigh towards his restrained and desperately straining arousal, the fingers of his other hand cleverly crawling down along Ciel’s side and up under his shirt, seeking out a peaked and heat flushed nipple. 

A smile flickered on Ciel’s face as his bonded’s carnal appetite swept just under his skin, leaving it flushed and tingling as it spread through him. “I _love_ being at your mercy, Sebastian. Of course I feel you…” then greedily added, _but I need to feel you more._ He pushed out his chest against the touch of the demon’s warm hand, arching his back as his own free hand came up and over Sebastian’s shoulder to card through his sleek onyx hair with something like affection and aggression at once. 

A thrumming hum vibrated through the demon as he shuddered under the attention, pleased by the possessiveness in Ciel’s motions and making it known as his mate’s fingers threaded through his hair, blunt nails scraping against his scalp deliciously. He kneaded at his own thigh and upwards, coasting along his cloth-covered cock teasingly, aware it would be reflected upon his mate as surely as he felt it himself, smiling when Ciel’s breath hitched. He nipped at his ear, worrying the tip between his sharp teeth tenderly as his fingers pinched and rolled the soft, stiff nub of his mate’s nipple between them, reveling in the gasps and shuddering exhales that left Ciel’s pretty parted lips. “You’re a sight my darling… Much more enticing than bodies on a screen… and so _responsive..._ ” 

Ciel fisted the demon’s hair, pulling it away from his ear and towards his neck, forcing the heat of his mate’s mouth onto the flushed column as a teasing phantom hand brush the straining, prominent bulge in his trousers. _Only you drive me to madness, my love. Only you have claimed me both in this life and the last. I’ll never want anyone else._ His free hand bunched the fabric of the sofa as he unconsciously bucked his hips, his body begging for the friction his mate was so slow in delivering. 

Something about Ciel’s words struck a chord in Sebastian, but he was too preoccupied to properly analyze what it was and why it struck him so, busily sucking marks into his mate’s flesh and lapping up the salty sweet essence of the mortal’s sweat. He growled against Ciel’s skin possessively, finally groping at his arousal with a deliberate and delicious roughness, sliding his other hand down his mate’s chest to his belly, spreading his fingers over the taut surface with firm pressure and massaging there fondly. _Mine… this body, this flesh, this mouth, this voice, these hands, all those gasps, moans and breaths, this life… All of this… all of you belongs to me. You are mine Ciel… My darling…_

“Ahh.. Yes, Sebastian! All yours!” Ciel purred, reveling in the demon’s possessiveness and moving from his position on the sofa onto his mate’s lap. He brought his mouth down on the demon’s, crushing and fierce in its aggression, and yet his body melted on top of Sebastian, into him as he rolled his hips and ground his backside into the clothed stiffness of the demonic cock. _Again, my love? Will you have me?_

_Always…_ the silky response whispered through their bond as the demon palmed his lover’s hips, guiding the pleasurable rocking motions, leaning up to take Ciel’s mouth as ferociously as he’d taken Sebastian’s. He rolled his own hips up against his mate’s backside without hesitation, moaning his appreciation for the friction gutturally and thumbing at the waistband of the young man’s trousers, wearing the fabric away with torturous slowness, preparing to make good on his promise. 

There was a sudden and wholly unwelcome knock at the door and he growled his displeasure though he did not move to answer, attempting to ignore the visitor in lieu of continuing the pleasurable activities with his lover. He snarled and pulled away when another knock came, more insistent this time and accompanied by the vaguely nasally and grating tone of a teenager announcing that it was a delivery. And he hissed out his breath as he remembered that he had ordered something for his mate to eat while Ciel had been arranging his recently acquired relic and artwork. He deflated into the cushions a moment before he coaxed and lifted Ciel from his lap. “It’s the dinner I took the liberty of ordering for you my darling… I’m afraid I forgot in my _distraction,_ ” he excused as he straightened up and adjusted his throbbing cock before he moved to the door, opened it just enough to pay the youth standing boredly outside it and retrieved the meal before closing the door behind him and making his way back with an apologetic and wholly disappointed look on his face. 

Ciel took the food gratefully from his mate, touched by the demon’s thoughtfulness, and deposited it on the coffee table before he pushed his mate back onto the sofa and eagerly mounted him. “I like cold pizza better,” he teased from above, forcefully pulling the demon’s shirt out from his trousers and sliding his hands up along the sides of his muscular torso. He only had the chance to push himself against his mate’s rigid cock once when his stomach gave an audible growl, clearly upset by the denial of the saucy, cheesy goodness that wafted through the grease-stained box and filled the condo within moments. 

Sebastian chuckled, giving Ciel’s hips a squeeze. “It would appear you have been cock blocked by your own mortality my darling… Eat; there will be time later to finish what we’ve started,” he prompted, amusement and desire aglow in the garnet depths of his feline eyes. He shifted under Ciel, perfectly content to remain his mate’s perch as he ate, and reaching with one hand to open the warm and vaguely damp box that held the most sinfully addictive monstrosity that humans had created for themselves, pulling a steaming slice from the pie and offering it to Ciel with an affectionate half smile.

Ciel took a bite of the offered slice, his eyes watering as the cheese burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He winced bringing the slice back to blow on it before smiling cheekily at his mate, “Now where did a nice demon like you learn a naughty expression like _cock blocked_? Am I going to have to wash your mouth out with soap? Maybe give you a spanking?” 

His half smile became a toothy grin as his mate questioned him coyly, and Sebastian reached up to press a kiss to Ciel’s mouth, tongue swiping inside to remove the burn there before he pulled away again. Nose vaguely wrinkled in distaste for the odd flavour the mortal food had left in the young man’s mouth as he replied in a low tone, “I might have picked it up from the dialogue of the film… I can think of better things for you to wash my mouth out with my darling and should you wish to spank me, I can’t say I would be opposed... You might be _pleasantly_ surprised.” He lowered his lashes and gripped Ciel’s wrist in a tender grip, drawing the still piping hot food down towards himself, taking over blowing on it as he stared intently up into his mate’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've had some of you send us really amazing theories in regards to past-life and what's to come! Please don't feel shy to comment about it- we'd love to hear what you think!


	33. Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance like nobody's watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the continuation of Sebastian and Ciel''s date; we hope you enjoy it! Next week's Chapter will bring an end to this arc of the story and bring us into the last one! The end is in sight! 
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [Love Me Harder by Ariana Grande ft. The Weeknd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5qU7p7yOY8)  
> Ciel~ [Swoon by Beach Weather](https://youtu.be/7WeAj_evAHI)

They’d come off the cold, damp streets of London and into an extensive, two-tiered universe brimming with bodies writhing against one another. The house music was so loud, Ciel could feel its bass throbbing through the floor, into his Chelsea boot-clad feet and up through his body. Strobe lights, floor lights and spotlights created fleeting flashes of brightness, highlighting the distinct wet glistening shapes of the dancers. 

The bond between he and his demon thrummed pleasantly as Sebastian seemed to absorb the atmosphere, to revel in the greedy, hedonistic vibe. Ciel had thought as much when he’d chosen this particular venue as he leaned over the bar in snug, low-rise denim to order their drinks. By the time the dj had spun a new song and the mortal nudged his mate with two highballs in hand, his white, fitted v-neck t-shirt clung damply to his skin. “Um, it’s called _Death in the Afternoon_ , it’s highly alcoholic; I thought you might like it?” Ciel said shrugging before handing the drink to Sebastian. 

“How thoughtful you are my darling,” Sebastian said, leaning casually back against the bar, accepting the offered beverage from his mate and lifting the glass to his lips for a sip. An approving purr resounded through their bond, conveying his approval of the liquor as he turned his gaze to the knot of bodies throbbing as one in chaotic seduction beneath a multitude of technicolour lights and white noise and in rhythm with the pulsing bass. _I seem to remember these sorts of “dates” with far less apparel involved. Is this common flirtation among modern mortals? It’s rather delightful,_ the husky silk of his voice caressed through their bond and washed through his mate in warm liquid waves; he could probably taste the bittersweet dark chocolate and smoke that was the Fallen’s flavour, _Will you teach me this dance my darling?_

 _I thought you’d never ask,_ Ciel answered, winking at the demon from behind his glass, letting the heat of the alcohol spread in his chest before he left it on the table and took Sebastian’s hand to lead him to the center of the mass of bodies on the dance floor. The tempo of the song slowed as he turned from the Fallen, the back of his supple body pressed snugly into Sebastian’s crotch, shadowing one of his mate’s large hands along the perspired expanse of his torso and onto his swaying hips. He could hear the thunder of Sebastian’s heart as he looped an arm up around his neck, while the other guided the demon’s soot-tipped fingers to his mouth and gave the index and middle finger a gentle, teasing suck. Ciel closed his eyes, groaning as he allowed the enticing sensation of the music to engulf him and began to move his agile body to the lilt of the seductive rhythm, every motion hypnotic. He rolled his hips back against the demon, grinding into him to the pulse of the song, his arousal and desire filtering through their bond as he spoke to his mate, _Move with me, my love._

A low, feral growl sounded from Sebastian and could be felt equally corporeal as the sinful sound of it through their bond when he molded himself to his mate, unabashedly rutting his restrained arousal against Ciel’s backside as he sinuously picked up the young man’s rhythm, seamlessly insinuating himself into the erotic pulse of the music. The dark denim Ciel had picked out for his trousers was torturously tight against his skin not that he minded a little bondage. His hands slid up and down Ciel’s torso respectively, groping at lithe muscle and angular bone with one while Ciel’s tongue taunted the lacquered fingers of the other mercilessly. The shirt he wore was as tight as the trousers spilling over his arms and torso like starlit water and long-sleeved, though it was made of light, sheer material that smokily obscured his nipples, defined musculature and deliciously perfect crescent of his navel and seemed to ripple under the fluttering lights that bathed the mass of writhing bodies on the dancefloor. But Sebastian saw no one but the striking creature that shifted with languid wantonness in his embrace, captivated entirely by his mate. He belonged to this beautiful, breakable little thing and he could find no cause for complaint. Call him a masochist, but he’d been eagerly enslaved. 

_You’ve deceived me, husband dearest,_ Ciel said in response to the way the demon moved against him, his body rolling with lustful precision as his hands expertly explored his small mortal mate, kneading and pinching all the right places. Ciel growled an almost feral sound in response through their bond as he turned to face Sebastian, clinging to his mate as though he couldn’t get close enough, pressing every inch of his lithe form against the Fallen’s willingly submissive body. He fit so nicely, flawlessly. Ciel’s softer features and curves contrasting perfectly with his mate’s strong, angular ones, as though they’d been created for this sole purpose. _You’ve never required any help in the art of seduction_ , he purred as his hands possessively groped the demon’s sides, his hips and found his defined backside, to draw him closer when he felt their eyes on them, _on his mate_. Their stares almost felt like a challenge and Ciel began to sway erotically in his lover’s embrace, suggestively as he lost himself to the demon’s rich, heady pheromones and thumbed the waist of Sebastian’s trousers. He slipped a hand inside by his mate’s hip, his fingers tracing the sharp protrusion of bone and rounded his desperately seeking hand to the front where the heat and throb of the demon’s member called to him, pulsing almost in time with the small pants he’d been unaware were moving past his own lips. 

Sebastian’s hips rolled forward needily under the pressure of his mate’s soft fingertips. It was sweet torture to not have him right there in the midst of a sweaty knot of strangers that meant nothing to either of them. How ironic such an image was, so familiar in so many ways, some of which he could not quite understand himself. Ciel’s aggressive seduction was exquisite. His scent became heavy in the humid air until none of the pungent scents of others could be discerned from it. The bodies around them seemed to shift closer, pressing in against them at intervals. More than once, the Fallen felt hands that did not belong to his lover ghost his shoulders of the back of his thighs and he would ignore them as if he’d not felt them at all. Only Ciel’s lit his skin aflame with desire. And he could feel the jealousy and the vicious possessiveness his mate was radiating as Ciel pressed harder against him, drew him closer selfishly, covetously, warningly. And the heat in Sebastian’s belly grew hotter, his own hands slipping up under the back of Ciel’s shirt, sharp nails prickling at his skin the way he liked. _You bring out the very best in me my darling. It’s nothing intentional on my part, but something much more **primal** that begs to please you,_ he purred silkily through their bond, slender fingers dipping into the back of his lover’s trousers and teasing the soft and damp crevasse there.

Ciel tilted his head back, moaning audibly as the strong current of their bond possessed him, stoked his insides, like flames lapping with eager tongues, hitching and shuddering his breath. He pulled at the side of the demon’s shirt, tearing the mesh fabric and revealing the hollowed dips of his collarbones. His mouth latched onto the creamy skin, sucking, marking and licking his way down the demon’s neck and shoulders, rubbing himself shamelessly in an all too familiar way, rutting rhythmically into his partner and feeling his mate’s length slick in his hand as he squeezed it. He was utterly lost in the sensation when he pulled away, admiring the pockmarked skin, his claim on his mate for everyone to see and gazed raptly up at Sebastian’s face before pressing his mouth to the devil’s. His hot tongue skimmed sharp inhuman teeth, then offered itself, bleeding and greedy with want to his mate. 

Sebastian groaned gutturally and sucked on Ciel’s tongue, slipping his fingers in between the plush cheeks of his mate’s rear, sought and firmly pressed against the twitching hole there, pulling him even closer as Ciel’s hand taunted his arousal coyly, withholding most deliciously. It only made Sebastian want him more in so many ways. He did not even notice when the song became another, their movements following fluidly as they were lost in one another for long moments.

Ciel opened his eyes, looking dazed and disoriented as he pulled away from the kiss. Sebastian cupped his jaw aggressively, turning his head to the right, and ran his thumb over the thundering pulse before bringing his mouth to it and biting down gently. The mortal choked on a moan as the demon teased his puckered entrance, kneading and gripping the soft flesh in plain sight. Ciel purred his ecstasy, shivering as he took in the excess of skin prominently displayed, a virtual blanket of limbs and bodies, some naked, or partly naked, writhing in orgiastic frenzy, feeding off the demon, off the scent of his arousal. Some found their own pleasure, they were the loudest, the ones Ciel could make out over the din of the music, while others were but a tangle of bodies, dozens of them together, slamming, thrusting, fucking. _Look what you’ve done, Asmodeus…_ Ciel crooned seductively through their bond, bringing his hand to the demon’s face, pulling it closer to mouth against his ear, “Tell me what this does to you, my love. Are you delighted?” 

“I am… I could not help it even if I was sorry which I am not. It is you that has made it impossible for me to curb my desires. You arouse me so my darling,” Sebastian responded, smooth lips and a forked tongue whispering against the young man’s jaw as he spoke, his hands pressing further, fingertips rubbing in small, tight circles before dipping teasingly just inside the adorably excited little hole. “How is it that you can remain so pure in the midst of so much sin sweetling? No matter how I defile you, your soul remains radiant, untainted and beautiful… I cannot get enough of you,” he murmured before he pressed his teeth against the side of Ciel’s neck and dug them in with painful pleasure, moaning his own pleasure gutturally as his mate’s blood flowed freely over his tongue and warmed him from the inside out.

 _There is nothing that enters a man from outside which can defile him, but the things which come out of him; those are the things that make him unclean.” Your father’s words as told by Mark, my love, so I pray you keep trying to desecrate this soul, it’s much too amusing for you to stop._ Ciel implored, parting his lips under the vicious assault of the demon’s hot tongue on his skin as he plundered his holy blood. A heat flared in his guts as Sebastian’s fingers worked him torturously. The sweat ran the length of his limbs accumulating in the small dips of his body, his clavicle, his hips, the bow of his lips and drenched his t-shirt until it was all but transparent. 

Sebastian hummed, flesh alight as Ciel’s blood caressed beneath its surface. _How clever you are my darling,_ he purred in Ciel’s mind. He lapped the wounds left in the wake of his teeth closed with some reluctance, slowed, but did not completely stop the torturous motions of his fingertips as he inhaled the scent of his mate deeply. He could smell the perspiration that clung to his lover’s flesh, could taste it in the thick, heated air around them; Ciel was parched, blood slow and viscous with the need for the replenishing liquid. _You need something to drink my darling. Your body craves hydration. Let me get you something cool to drink before we continue, after all, there’s no need to rush, is there?_

The young man cocked his head and his mismatched eyes narrowed in a sly appraisal that was as seductive as his smirk, _My body craves you more than it craves anything else, Sebastian. Do **not** abandon me here when you know this to be the case._ Ciel’s order was borne of frustration by his weak mortal body and a mourning of the physical intimate contact from which the demon had withdrawn. Ciel could feel his possessiveness escalate, despite _knowing_ Sebastian belonged to him, and him alone. He also knew he was being manipulated by his spouse; that the demonic in him reveled in Ciel’s dependence and its accompanying begging, loved to watch his mortal mate come apart slowly, only to put him back together smelling of the divine sin that he himself had caused. And Ciel willingly let himself be manipulated because to not do so was to deny himself the exquisite pain that was the tearing of his soul to be shared with his beloved. 

He followed the demon off the dance floor towards the bar again and sat upon a barstool, watching his mate through his lashes, wetting his lips as he devoured Sebastian’s delicious form. He was completely entranced by him and hardly took notice as a Margarita glass was pushed generously in front of him. “I thought that was you…” 

Ciel’s eyes widened at the familiarity of the voice and was surprised to see the flaxen-haired backpacker he’d met some months ago offering him a drink. “Elias,” he acknowledged, nodding in his direction and accepting the refreshment, “have you been well?” 

Elias smiled, his ego somewhat bruised as he enviously watched the handsome young man eyeing his mate with something akin to hunger in his eyes, “I have. I see you’ve made up with your boyfriend then, yeah?”

Ciel hummed in answer, setting the half-empty glass down again. “Who are you here with?” he asked only half paying attention to the boy, whose foot caught on his own under the table. He turned his hips in his seat a little to disentangle them, though keeping his eyes jealously on his mate as both men and women had begun to flock towards him. 

“This is new…” Elias responded, ignoring the young aristocrat’s question, drawing a line over the gilded markings on the boy’s hand and up his exposed arm. When he got to the sleeve of the damp t-shirt the boy wore almost like a second skin, he tucked his finger just under, “How extensive is it beneath your clothing? _I wish_ I had some of these...” 

The barkeep was taking an excessive amount of time to get Sebastian’s order; it should certainly take far less time to retrieve a single bottle of water than it was. He scanned over the mass of bodies, feline eyes seeking out his mate, unaffected by the hands crawling across him, plucking at his clothing and groping at his flesh. His eyes narrowed as he found Ciel where he had left him and an unwelcome familiar face hovering far too close to him for the Fallen’s liking. He growled lowly under his breath, the sound echoing through the bond he shared with Ciel as the blonde vagrant reached to touch his mate as if he had the right. Potent possessiveness washed through him and rolled off him in heady waves and he moved to pull away from the grasping limbs of faceless writhing creatures pressed in around him only for them to draw him back, trying to coax him to stay, begging.

Ciel felt Sebastian’s possessiveness mirroring his own through their bond, and arched a brow as he glared at the Fallen, challenging him. Surely it shouldn’t matter if someone he somewhat knew touched his arm, when the demon was allowing no less than ten individuals to grope his body, to touch the parts that the mortal had bathed with his own mouth and left bitemarks and bruises. At first it had amused him, flattered him that his mate was as desirable as he was, but now his jealousy surged, spiked then smoldered through their connection; how dare these strangers try to stake their claim on _his_ property. _Reassure me, Sebastian. Tell me you are mine, only mine; and I won’t deny you the worship you deserve._

Elias looked on at the silent exchange between the beatific mortal boy and his lover, “Are you alright with this?” He got up and stood behind Ciel, completely undeterred by his lack of attention as he caressed the slender, gold-spackled arm, until he found the dampened hair and ran his fingers through it. “Come dance with me,” he purred in the young man’s ear, brushing his lips along the shell, “forget possessiveness, forget jealousy, we’ll make your mate feel _envy_ this time around.” 

_There is no question that I belong to you precious,_ Sebastian’s voice intoned ferally in response through their bond followed by another low warning growl. He did not turn towards the bartender, reaching to accept the bottle of water without needing to see and he straightened languidly. Dark tendrils pushed away the fingers that sought to trap him remorselessly, snarling aloud and thrusting the featureless bodies out of his path as he stalked across the floor towards his mate. A scent caught his attention and a glint in poisonous green eyes that was distinctly not human as the male behind Ciel looked at him challengingly. 

Sebastian bared his teeth and immediately reached for Ciel, pressing the bottle of water into his mate’s hands as he narrowed his eyes at the interloper with recognition. “You always were too curious for your own good. You’re disrupting our date and I’ve no time to deal with the likes of you this evening. But I’m feeling generous; you should go before I’m no longer feeling charitable, and I’d suggest you let the boy go as well,” he murmured venomously, his own eyes flickering dangerously as they held those of his little brother. Envy had not even bothered to hide his presence, impulsive as he was known to be. 

Leviathan smiled wickedly at the other Fallen, inclining his host’s head as he acknowledged his brother’s threat. He’d only come to get a look, to see if it was true, that Asmodeus had been so lucky to have found his mate again. In his opinion, the elder had never deserved him the first place. No matter; now that he knew that the blood of his own beloved had been passed on to another, there would be time to convince him he was better than his brother. His fingers drifted along Ciel’s body as Asmodeus snatched him away selfishly and left a residue of his sin on the mortal’s smooth skin, perhaps to teach his brother a lesson. He drew away and gave the elder demon a mock salute, “We’ll catch up soon then,” he bid before he turned on his borrowed heel and disappeared in the sea of bodies. 

Sebastian followed his brother’s departure keenly, making certain he could no longer smell him before he looked back at his mate again, looking him over for any sign of injury or distress. 

_Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine,_ Ciel groused, feeling particularly irritated as he ripped the cap off the water bottle and chugged its contents, letting it spill from his lips, down his chin and over the front of his shirt. He carelessly discarded the bottle before taking his place behind his mate, making sure the demon was facing the bar from where he’d come. His fingers rubbed small circles at the demon’s nape and none too gently, then moved to roughly massage the broad shoulders, kneading the muscle, his thumbs digging into the flesh with an almost punishing force. It was when a dozen or so individuals that had been groping and fondling his spouse minutes ago got up to move closer, obviously still drawn to Sebastian, that Ciel growled his disapproval in their bond, then grasped the collar of his mate’s shirt, and tore it down the front. _It aches to be away from you, especially when I have to watch you with a harem, my love. Do you enjoy my jealousy, Sebastian? Do you take pleasure in my possessiveness? Tell the truth._ He pressed small blunted nails into the demon’s exposed flesh drawing angry red trails from chest to abdomen, then lower as he glared in the direction of the onlookers at the bar from behind his mate. Ciel didn’t stop when his hand found the buttonfly of his mate’s trousers and gave it a harsh tug before sinking his hand into his mate’s underwear to squeeze the member firmly. When it didn’t deter the demon’s fanclub, he covetously yanked the garment down, releasing the throbbing, glistening erection that hadn’t gone down in the least since their dance, and gave it languid successive pumps. The Fallen’s breath hitched; it was an enticing reaction, one that stirred his own cock, sending a pulsing heat into it and making it swell against the confines of his already tight jeans. “You’re mine,” he breathed enviously, knowing Sebastian could hear him over the thundering bass, “Tell them…” 

_It makes me warm inside, I’ll admit my darling. It is a rather endearing gesture,_ the demon answered huskily through their bond followed by a low purring growl of appreciation as Ciel roughly handled him. He shuddered and leaned into his mate’s touch eagerly. He looked at the encroaching crowd, gaze narrowing in warning, pressing them back harshly with smoky tendrils of dark power, “No further. I am his. I answer only to him; I’ve no use for any of you,” he ordered firmly, tone dominating and threatening in the way that made mortals wary (for good reason). The bodies that had been boldly attempting to envelope them were stayed, gyrating against one another instead, unable to sate their need any other way now that the demon had made clear his rejection. 

Sebastian rolled his hips, thrusting into his lover’s grip lazily, manhood throbbing against Ciel’s palm and hot under his fingertips. He traced his hands back over his mate’s sides, down to his hips and groped his thighs encouragingly. _Satisfied my darling? They’ll not cross you again. Or perhaps you wish to demonstrate to them how you own me..._

Ciel looked over his own shoulder, keeping his lover’s cock in hand, feeling every ridged spine-like protuberance under the human skin as his grip glided up and down the shaft with increasing friction. It was true enough that the individuals the devil had admonished had taken to molesting one another rather than attempting to claim his mate, but it hadn’t deterred the other few hundred individuals who seemed to have slowed in their movements to gaze upon them with erotic interest. _You would like that, wouldn’t you, **Lust**? This is what I get for tying myself to the embodiment of perversion and debauchery._ Ciel teased, an amused lilt to his tone as his free hand thumbed around the waistband of his mate’s trousers and undergarments and tugging them just below his hips, revealing the cleft of his perfectly rounded backside. _Tell me honestly my love, do you wish to be taken in front of everyone? Have you no shame?_

 _What shame is there in letting you have me? I’ve no use for the moral high ground of mortals my darling. This is to me as natural as breathing is to you,_ Sebastian purred gutturally in response, pressing back into the pressure of Ciel’s hand on his backside while his cock wept in the grip of his other. He squeezed Ciel’s hips, kneading at the waistline of his trousers, fingering beneath the denim teasingly.

Encouraged by the obvious arousal he felt through their bond, Ciel pushed the demon's pants down until they pooled around his thighs, exposing him completely to everyone. The hand on his lover’s cock moved lower, and gently cupped the demon's tight, warm sac, gently squeezing the tension that had built there. _I suppose I'm in luck then, because desiring you, wanting to always be one with you is also as natural and as necessary to me as filling my lungs with air._ The fingers of his unoccupied hand splayed over Sebastian’s defined back before they trailed part-way up along his spine, then pushed the devil forward, the motion forcing him to bend at the waist over the table Ciel had been occupying moments ago. His flesh burned at the sight of his powerful mate displayed so submissively before him, before the other patrons’ starving eyes and he could not help but to take a knee behind his mate to remove the demon’s shoes as to take off his trousers completely. 

A smoky, rich essence seemed to permeate the club as it rolled off the demon’s skin, making Ciel’s mouth water and unable to resist pressing his mouth to the back of Sebastian’s thighs, where he nipped and sucked a searing path up to the exposed backside, taking time to alternate between the long limbs as his hands desperately kneaded his hips, pulling his bonded closer to him. He heard the wanton gasps from the onlookers, their short spurted breaths hitch when he ran his tongue along the curve of his lover’s ass and bit into it possessively. Ciel stood again, cocking his head to admire the claiming marks he'd left and murmured huskily against the skin of the Fallen’s back as his hands settled on Sebastian’s hips again, “I don't wish to humiliate you, love, but only to show them to whom you belong. You'll communicate with me what you do not want, and what it is you do, do you understand?”

“Of course, but there is nothing you could do to me that would shame me in this way my darling,” Sebastian breathed lowly, claws making little divots in the tabletop where his fingers kneaded at the lacquered wood in anticipation. He arched under Ciel’s attention, looking back over his shoulder at his mate with hooded scarlet eyes. “Go on then, show them. Take me,” he encouraged as he pressed his hips back against Ciel urgently, body eagerly preparing itself to accept his mate however he would take him, without hesitation, caution or complaint, readily splayed for his lover’s claim.

“That’s my demon…” Ciel purred near the Fallen’s ear, unbuttoning his own jeans, cushioning his pulsing erection between the cheeks of his mate’s bare bottom and pinning him nice and tight against the table. He could barely suppress the excited tremors that caused his fingers to tremble as he brought them to his mate’s mouth and thumbed against the warmth of his lips. _No cheating, Sebastian … you’ll let me prepare you properly,_ he teased before slipping two fingers into his mouth and petting the demon's tongue to coat them with thick, ropey, inhuman saliva. 

_It’s unnecessary, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll not argue,_ he answered silkily through their bond as he moaned lowly around Ciel’s fingers, curling his tongue around them greedily, while he ground his backside enticingly against the throbbing pressure of his lover’s arousal.

Ciel rested his forehead against Sebastian’s back, lost in the overstimulation of the demon’s mouth and teasing movements against his painfully engorged member. The music was being drowned out by the orgiastic commingling of unrestrained moans, of skin slapping skin, and of the most depraved words being cried out endearingly by the patrons in attendance. Bodies were drawing closer to them, some piling atop of the other to get a closer look, while others sought access to the upper tiers to watch from above. 

Ciel withdrew his fingers from Sebastian’s mouth and brought them to his own cock, smearing the dripping fluid over his head and down his shaft. A vicious jealousy clawed at his insides as he rut himself shamelessly against his mate. He would not be able to have his demon as he would like, not with all their eyes on them. He would not share the sight of his mate in the throes of ecstasy; that was a feast for his eyes, and his alone. A claim would be enough to make them understand. 

He held the Fallen’s hips in a bruising hold, thrusting his swollen cock against Sebastian’s backside, ignoring the desperate desire to bury himself into the demon’s tight heat. _Turn around love, I need to see you,_ he commanded through their bond, _lend me your mouth._

Sebastian purred throatily, running his tongue over his teeth predatorily as he moved with languid grace to obey his mate, more than eager to fulfil whatever the exquisite creature desired. He slid to his knees before Ciel, pressing adoring kisses beneath his navel as his voice echoed in between them, _It’s yours my darling._ His tongue flickered out over the sweat damp skin, hands kneading at Ciel’s hips as he looked up at him through his sooty lashes hungrily.

Ciel took a breath, trying to calm himself and come to terms with this most seductive and submissive side of his lover’s nature. One hand threaded in the soft midnight strands of Sebastian’s hair, rounding to the back of his head and coaxing him closer, while the other squeezed the base of his own cock, steadying it inches from the demon’s slightly parted, waiting lips, then nudged them open when he rubbed his glistening, pre-cum dripping crown against them. 

He bit his lower lip, feeling his canines pierce the soft flesh as he fed the demon his aching cock, one inch at a time. _You're so good to me, love. Such a devoted mate,_ , he praised as his eyes dilated at the sight of nearly his whole manhood be swallowed up by the Fallen. _Pleasure me, Sebastian. Show them the depths of you devotion, that you’re happy to be enslaved to me._

 _Yes my darling..._ Sebastian’s tongue slithered along the underside of his mate’s cock, one hand replacing his lover’s to hold the base steady as he swallowed Ciel’s manhood with ease. He traced the smooth, veined surface, coiling his tongue around it and stroking coyly as he bobbed over it. _Don’t gentle your touches. Pull harder... Take from me your pleasure sweetling, you’ve no need to hold back,_ he murmured huskily, even his inner voice breathless as he laved attention over the sensitive flesh in his mouth, pinning the head between his teeth and teasingly tickling the tip with his tongue, encouraging his mate to lose control of himself.

Ciel had begun to move with a slow steady rhythm as he plundered the demon’s mouth, but the moment his mate internally vocalized his eagerness to be violently taken in front of the throng of clubgoers, something snapped inside Ciel. His mouth fell slightly open, and his muscles tightened as he grabbed a fistful of Sebastian's hair, winding it around his fingers, anchoring him in place as he drove into him. He breathed roughly, half groaning with each thrust in, inhaling pointedly each time he withdrew from the greedy mouth. The demon’s nails dug into the back of his thighs and scratched downwards, breaking the skin; while their coinciding moans were obscene, more than enough to whip the crowd into a frenzy. It was hardly a deterrent; Ciel pistoned his hips, fucking into the demon’s delectable orifice, chasing after his release. He looked down at his beloved, teeth clenched as he all but snarled, “Keep your mouth open, Sebastian. Stick out your devil’s tongue for me!” 

A gravelly, purring growl echoed in the Fallen’s chest as he strangled his mate’s cock with his tongue and sucked with even practiced pressure, pulling off when he was ordered to. He licked his lips and opened his mouth, watching Ciel through his lashes and batting them coyly, an expectant lewdness in the glowing sanguine depths. His fingers kneaded Ciel’s backside and thighs, prickling his skin in enthusiastic anticipation. _Come now my darling, I’m famished,_ he coaxed silkily as he slowly slid his hand up and back down Ciel’s length at a torturous pace, waiting for the grip on his hair to guide him however his mate saw fit.

Ciel pulled back on the demon’s hair with one hand, tilting his head upwards to behold the depravity he’d caused, then moved the soot-tipped fingers wrapped around his tensing member with the other. He reached his peak with a low cry, the crowd echoing his release as pearly ejaculate rained onto Sebastian’s waiting tongue. He pumped his cock harshly a few more times to coat the demon’s cheek, smearing it with his blunted tip and relishing the mess it made as it ran down along his jaw and onto his neck. His hand cupped the soiled, handsome face and he leaned in, running his own tongue against it, chest swelling with pride in tasting his own essence marking the demon. _You’re beautiful like this, Sebastian. Subjugated. Shackled to a mate. To Me. Mine. Only mine._

_Is that so my darling? Such flattery. I should be so blessed to have a mate such as you to tame me,_ Sebastian’s lilting and amused tone sifted through their link as his tongue lapped the lingering bittersweetness of his mate’s release. His touch gentled some, petting over the bruises he’d left on Ciel’s hips in his eagerness to please him as he tilted his head to allow Ciel to bathe his face and remove the rest of the spilled seed from his skin. “I rather enjoy this side of you sweetling, perhaps you’d like to properly lay claim to me in a place where we will not have any interruption unless you prefer to have an audience?”

Sebastian’s insinuation of Ciel preferring an audience brought the mortal back to the auction room where the Fallen’s brother had implied the same. “I do not prefer it,” he answered somewhat crestfallen, uncertainty bleeding through their connection, “could you not feel my possession, Sebastian? My jealousy? Is that why you wish to see more?” He pulled back from the demon righting himself and his clothing before offering a hand to his mate. 

Sebastian accepted the hand up though it was hardly necessary; he appreciated the gesture for what it was. “Of course I can feel it. I merely meant to express that I hardly mind either way. Their wanting is meaningless, but yours is _intoxicating_. Whether alone, or in a sea of bodies, I only care to feel your eyes on me my darling. Shall we take our leave?” he replied, reaching to brush damp strands of tousled navy from his mate’s flushed face fondly.

Ciel gazed up at his mate through his lashes with something like adoration in his eyes, holding the demon’s hand to his face, “Mm… good, because I’m not nearly done with you tonight, my love,” He barely spared a moment’s notice to the cacophonous laments and whines that filled the large space as they made their way to the exit, “Take me away from this filth, Sebastian.” 

“Yes my darling,” the Fallen answered as he drew his mate against him as the chill of December assaulted them outside the club. He wasted little time in spreading the dark pinions of his wings for flight, hardly concerned with being seen; he moved to fast and blended too easily with the shadows anyway. They were in the air and away in seconds, eager to return to the welcoming warmth of their private piece of heaven, of home, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	34. Reciprocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you who have been incredibly supportive by either continuing with this fic, or sending us lovely messages on Tumblr after the hate we got for having dared to write a submissive Sebastian. If this isn't your thing, you'll definitely not want to read this chapter, although you'll be missing crucial pieces in their relationship and their past as a result. 
> 
> As we're wrapping up this fic, we're considering what else we might write, if you have any suggestions, we would LOVE to hear them, come find us on Tumblr or simply leave them in the comments section! 
> 
> Tumblr:  
> [Chrome](https://chromehoplite.tumblr.com/)  
> [Xandie](http://xandiepandie-blog.tumblr.com/)  
>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ I’ll Be Yours by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O047VeR1T1E)  
> Ciel~ [Possession by Sarah McLachlan](https://youtu.be/9dADn6KDS-s)

Ciel had not slept in the demon’s arms as Sebastian had rushed them back to Stonehenge. He'd not sat idly either, instead he'd torn the demon’s shirt off and spent their time in flight sucking covetous marks into his lover’s skin, leaving it dappled in angry red and bruising purple. He'd insisted on not being carried bridal style but rather facing his lover, his slim, svelte legs wrapped tightly around him, as Sebastian kneaded and pawed at his backside with an urgency that rivaled the mortal’s desire to assert his need for his mate.

In the minutes it had taken to leave from London and for Sebastian to set him down at the centermost point in Stonehenge, against one of the fallen bluestones that made up the horseshoe-shaped arrangement, Ciel had decorated his mate’s flesh with bitemarks and bruises, scratches and hickeys, handprints and bloodstains. And to add to the lovely branding, he’d imposed his scent upon the abused flesh by laving the demon with his tongue and smearing his holy blood, so there could be no question as to whom he belonged to now. 

Before his bonded could even so much as make a move towards the entrance of their home, before he could utter a single word, or make a single sound, a tight circle of cool blue flames easily matching the height of the sarsen sandstone that made up Stonehenge’s perimeter, shot up from the ground, trapping them at the center. Ciel cocked his head coyly, possessively appraising the demon through half-lidded eyes, “I thought I told you that I wasn’t done with you, my love.” 

“Oh? And you wish to have me just here on the hillside then?” Sebastian questioned in a sultry lilt. A devilishly coy smile took residence on his lips, fangs pressing into the plush redness of the lower, his eyes flickering with the reflection of the blue flames surrounding them as he stepped over to Ciel. “Not that I am opposed, my darling, but how would you have me? You know I do love to hear the things you so desire,” he concluded as he smoothed his hands up Ciel’s sides and stared down at him, depthless devotion and desire kindled in the smoldering garnet pools of his eyes. 

Ciel tucked a long silky strand of Sebastian’s midnight locks behind his vaguely pointed ear and saw his own reflection lit by the blazing luminosity of the demon’s eyes. He looked positively ravenous, though he’d been sated less than an hour ago. Small, eager hands found his mate’s hips, pulling them towards himself as he pressed forward, _You’ve teased me all night, Sebastian. I’m no more immune to your wiles than the rest of the mortals who were present this evening; add to that, the greed that still flows inside me after your possession and the envy left behind by your brother. Why don’t **you** tell me what you mean by it. Are you so desperate to be claimed? Do you doubt my devotion?_

A smoky chuckle whispered from the demon’s lips as he allowed Ciel to dictate their movements without protest, intrigued by the intensity of his mate’s possessive yearning. “Not at all sweetling. Of your devotion, I have been made quite certain…” he sighed silkily, rolling his hips against the pressure of his lover’s encouragingly, “But as you know, it is in my nature to be rather greedy myself and with my sister’s added sin, I merely wish to have _all_ of you, to claim all such experiences from you and covet them as my own. Are you nervous to take me in such a manner?”

“Mm… Not _nervous_ ; more like intimidated, by your very nature, your identity, your experience,” Ciel answered, his voice reinforcing the sentiment as it shook with a measure of uncertainty. The flames responded in kind, diminishing in their height and intensity, waning with his confidence as the demon loomed over him, crimson eyes burning and boring into his own. “I… I want to take you… _Need_ to take you, but not at the expense of making a fool of myself, or your discomfort or impatience with my… my inexperience,” the young mortal acquiesced, unable to stop himself from digging his nails into his mate’s backside, sighing and writhing, as he kneaded its firmness and pulled him closer still. 

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, lashes lowering over his heated and adoring gaze as he listened to and watched his little lover. “Such mortal fears,” he murmured whimsically, still smiling and reached to caress along Ciel’s jaw with his fingertips as he continued, “You’ve no need of them. Shed the trappings of your perceived inaccuracies. There is no way in which you could disappoint me in this my darling. There are no rules or standards by which you must abide to take pleasure in me. I am yours as you are mine, there are to be no more barriers between us and we share in our union equally, do we not?”

“We do,” Ciel answered in a honeyed tone, leaning into the demon’s fingers, kissing his large palm. He wound his arms around Sebastian’s neck and pulled his face within touching distance of his own, sharing in the sweet scent of his breath, until it enticed him so, that his mouth crashed onto his mate’s. Sapphire flames that mirrored the mortal’s eyes, re-erupted, bursting from below, leeching off the surrounding oxygen and rendering Ciel light-headed, in the way that drinking too much made one feel as though they were in a dream-like state and lessened their inhibitions. 

The fire had blackened at the tips, high into the air, narrowed and spindly, its smoke giving off a subtle scent of blessed thistle, juniper and holly; reminiscent of the hundreds of winter solstices long celebrated by the druids in rituals of sex magick as generous offerings to their gods in this very space. The flames continued to crackle as the bonded couple’s kissing transitioned from passionate to frenzied, roaring when the dark smoky tendrils leaned in towards the center and made contact with their remaining clothing, licking at the material, bathing them as though with a lover’s tongue, twining around their limbs like rabid snakes and blazing over every inch of concealed skin. Once bared, cerulean and gold-coloured sparks radiated from the flames, snapping at the sparse patches of grass and singeing runes of eternity, adoration, fidelity and fertility into the earth, among others. 

Sebastian’s pupils narrowed and then dilated swiftly as the energy snapped and throbbed around them, in time with their pulses, whispering along their skins with static electricity. It came from Ciel and from himself, and from this place where his piece of heaven had fallen to earth when he had. He reached to cover his mate’s eyes for a moment, letting his true nature free of his human guise; as hastily as their clothing had been burned away, scales rippled over his skin, horns curled in inky wreaths around sharply pointed ears, matching, glossy black talons and wings, plumed in shifting midnight pinions, and lastly, a tail spade-tipped and coiled playfully. He turned his back to the smaller male, wings spreading to reveal his slender and muscled backside, tail swaying enticingly against the pale backs of his thighs and the firm globes of his rear. He turned his head to look back over his shoulder at his mate, eyes heavily hooded, veiled in thick, sooty lashes and glittering with sanguine desire. _Well little master, don’t keep me waiting any longer, please..._

_Mm… Do you have any idea what you do to me, Sebastian? Especially when you’re like this?_ The exorcist closed the distance between himself and his demon, coming up behind him, one hand grabbing roughly at his lover’s hip, sweaty palm slicked against the beautiful midnight scale, while his other pushed him gently forward onto the broken bluestone so that his mate’s chest lay flush against it. He squeezed the firm backside, fingertips pressing in, and admiring the way the scales paled under them for an instant before shifting back to darkest black when he relieved the pressure. The demon’s tail twitched, curling and unfurling around his thighs in anticipation until the young master ordered it around his own wrist, lifting it to unobscure his view of the demon’s perfectly presented rear. “Spread your legs, my love… I want to know what you feel like from the inside.” 

_I might have had some idea… Indulge me my darling, tell me what I’m like to you? I like to hear you say it,_ the Fallen purred through their bond silkily, while a rumbling growl echoed in his chest. He arched his back further, watched Ciel over his shoulder, a consuming in the illuminated scarlet depths, grit his teeth and hissed his breaths harshly through them. He rut his rear against his lover’s straining manhood ferally, his claws leaving divots in the stone beneath him as he kneaded it unconsciously. 

Ciel’s hand went up and over the demon’s shoulder, bracketing his throat between his fingers, holding it possessively and locking his eyes on Sebastian’s carnal stare, “You’re the shadow to my light, Sebastian,” he said, body thrumming with fine tension, fingers smoothing along the demon’s cleft, the longest inserting itself easily inside and watching raptly as it sank to the knuckle. He twisted his hand, bending his digit, rubbing at his lover’s insides, reveling in the tight heat before adding another. “You’re my darkness; and you’ve insinuated yourself in all the hollows of my being, blanketing my soul, not with evil, or emptiness, and not with the dark that taints my kin, but in the same way the moon obscures the sun, beautiful, breathtaking, a sight too powerful to gaze upon. But I’ve gazed upon your glory and it’s blinded me... disoriented me; I’m no longer able to function without you. You’re my everything, Sebastian.” He kissed the space between the soft wisps of down at the base of his mate’s wings, his own breath becoming rougher and more laboured as his mate’s greedy hole swallowed his fingers. 

“Mmn you flatter me little lover. You see me with such eloquence. I’ve never been so loved as you have loved me. And I have never loved another as I love you,” there was an insistent tugging somewhere in his core, some nagging burr of vague memory, but there was no mistruth in what he’d said, no stinging of cursed retribution for a deception against his master. He rocked back against the invading digits, body rippling around them as his mate sunk them inside repeatedly. He rutted his scaled cock against the smooth stone he was bowed over and his wings quivered with arousal as Ciel kissed between them while his tail wound further up his mate’s arm and tightened its grip. He could feel Ciel’s words on his skin like promises, warm and thick like honey and it drove him wild, his pleasure echoing through their bond encouragingly. His wings snapped out and he arched wickedly as Ciel’s fingertips brushed against the pleasure spot inside him, dug his nails into the stone viciously, hissing between gritted teeth, “Yesss… There… That’s it my darling.”

Ciel had been momentarily distracted by the Aurora swaying above them, dancing colours and flickering lights reflecting and throwing darkened rainbows upon the resplendent scale on Sebastian's form, when a shudder, burning hot, surged through the mortal at his lover’s insistent, salacious words. The hissing plea further provoked him, stiffening his member beyond the point of comfort, pulsing noticeably where it nudged just below Ciel’s busied fingers. “Here, my love? Is this what you want?” he teased, adding a third, working them in and out again, as Sebastian canted his hips to meet every thrust. His other hand released the demon’s throat, came down only to wrap around his lover’s waist to grip his spined cock and soothe the ache he felt in their bond, keeping a steady pace no matter how the demon growled and purred. _I want to hear you, lover, tell me what you want,_ he spoke silkily between them before he curled his fingers once again to brush over the hard knot of Sebastian’s prostate. 

The immortal’s head dropped down between his shoulders, rocking back into Ciel in a futile attempt to feel him deeper, well knowing it was impossible, but it hardly stopped his body from pleading for it. _What I want my darling… Abandon yourself to that most carnal of places inside of you. Claim me as I have claimed you. Leave your marks on me. Bathe my skin with your teeth and tongue, bury yourself in me. Taste the hidden places in me as I have tasted the depths of you,_ his voice came through the bond strained, heated, and sinful, like dark chocolate and cinnamon as he rolled his body languidly, inhuman and ethereal in his yearning seduction, _Own me..._

Ciel groaned his approval of his mate’s desire, his hunger for Sebastian intensifying and nearly reaching starvation. His fingers pulled out from his twitching, eager hole and he aligned himself against his lover’s entrance again, using one hand to steady his cock to it then pushed slowly inside, sheathing himself completely within its heat. The demon drew him in further, massaging his cock, pulsing and spasming around his shaft until he was pressed flushed against him. Ciel’s hands found Sebastian’s hips and tightened his grip about them, nails biting into the scales, groaning deeply as he rested his head between the demon’s shoulder blades. “Don’t move… please… If you do, I won’t… I won’t be… Nngh…” 

Sebastian reached back, splaying his fingers over Ciel’s hip, kneading soothingly. “Shh, just breathe my love, you’ll do splendidly,” he murmured coaxingly, loosening his body in increments in order to keep his lover from falling over the edge too soon. He rocked his hips forward and rolled them back against Ciel’s experimentally, purring gutturally as the mortal’s cock twitched and throbbed inside him eagerly, shifting shallowly in and out as Sebastian moved.

“Mmm… Sebastian, get lower,” Ciel pleaded, pushing down on the small of the demon’s back, to plunge into his lover while securing his hips in place in a bruising grip. Steady, slow thrusts rolled into Sebastian’s well-defined rear, as the slick heat clung to his cock, tighter than his lover’s lips ever had, tighter than he’d ever fisted his own arousal. He was enthralled by the sight of it fully buried inside his mate, sliding out and slamming in again just beneath where his tail protruded. Soon his hair was damp along his forehead and neck, his cheeks pink with exertion beneath long lashes and above his open, panting mouth. 

Sebastian laid his chest flush with the stone, spread his wings wide and defaced the cool surface repeatedly with his claws as he groped at it, pushing back to meet the thrusts heatedly. He grunted and growled every time Ciel assaulted his prostate and arched his back wickedly, and his tail had coiled itself around Ciel’s left thigh, squeezing in time with the pulsing of his body as his mate sheathed his cock inside him repeatedly. It was as satisfying to be taken this way by his lover as it was to take him. It was not often that he surrendered himself so willingly to another, but for Ciel, his mate, his one, it was as natural a craving as hunger and he gave of himself without falter or hesitation because Ciel was equal and deserving in their marriage and in their future.

Ciel rut himself with increasing force into Sebastian, hip bones crashing over and over again into his lover’s firm backside, the sound of their skin slapping wetly against one another nearly as enticing as their sinful, needy intonations. With his orgasm creeping, the mortal’s body tensed and he dug his nails into and scratched at the demon's left shoulder with one hand while the other wound and knotted itself tightly in his sleek onyx hair, arcing the demon’s back as he tugged it roughly, forcing his cock deeper inside him. Blood ran where lacerations had cut into the scale, mingling with the heat rolling off Ciel’s skin, the divinity of his lineage and the overwhelming ecstasy that was nearing; abruptly sparks erupted from his hands, without permission, without conscious thought, as though he were exorcising a demon from its host, beckoning as it spread and singed the locks in his hand before he could let go, then brandishing his imprint, leaving a silvered mark near his lover’s neck. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I c-can’t help it… Can you bear it? I’m s-so close Sebastian.” 

Sebastian’s body went taut, shuddered violently as the flames kissed his skin, seared closed the burning wounds that his mate had painted across his shoulder and back. It was exquisite, sharp and acute in its sensation; the claiming that spread through him caught his breath, stilled his false heart for long minutes as he surrendered to it. He was consumed by it, lost, but anchored by the silver blue tendrils that crawled all over him, snuck into every dip and curve, every pore of his being, blanketed him in warm possession, a belonging that drove him over the edge. He made an inhuman keening sound as his body clenched and spasmed around Ciel’s cock, hardly coherent of the words his mate spoke and unable to answer even had he been as his climax rushed over him in heady waves, spilled over into their bond with rapid elation and spattered the stone beneath him with his release.

When Sebastian went rigid, Ciel continued to fuck into him in an erratic, almost violent rhythm, caught up in the heady, staggering sensation bleeding through their bond, shuddering with the force of it. He was hesitant to grasp the demon’s hips as smoky blue tendrils still danced upon his hands, the colour burning brighter in intensity as he neared his peak; but when his mate found his release, he was no longer in his right mind to notice. He held the demon’s hips steady, pushing them down, poising his body and slamming into him, snapping his hips back and forth until the tight ring of muscle strangled his cock, milked it, pulled him in deeper and held him there. Ciel came in brutal, overwhelming spurts, filling the Fallen and crying out his name repeatedly in raspy, panting breaths against his back, quivering with the effort of holding himself aloft with both hands on either side of his mate.

“Mm,” Sebastian hummed lazily as fingertips taloned in glossy black caressed ticklishly up and down his mate’s forearm with unrushed adoration, soothing the quivering of the taut muscles, “How sweet your claim is inside me my darling, so warm, so possessive, so _breathtaking_. You marked me with your flames. It seems our marriage vows are now a complete set. Do you like the feel of me this way little lover?” He folded his wings back in, carefully curving them back over his mate for some minutes, keeping him warm and supporting him, listening to Ciel’s rapid heartbeat and the catching of his breath as he began to soften inside him. 

The flames around them had become subdued, until they were barely gleams on the surface of the grass and flickered out altogether. Only then, a cool breeze breached the circle and chilled the sweat glistening on Ciel’s skin; even under cover of the Fallen’s wings, he shivered. The mortal hummed in response to his mate’s question, nodding his forehead against his lover’s back, chest heaving in and out as he tried to breathe by sucking air in through his teeth. “I love… feel of you... every way,” he said, still panting and sliding out of his lover’s heat with some regret. “How do you go on for _hours_ Sebastian?” he inquired, then stood, hunching over with his hands on his thighs, “Like, literally _hours_?”

The Fallen chuckled as he turned and stretched languidly back against the stone, a sated curl to his mouth. “It’s in my nature,” he answered with a cheeky lilt behind the words, his tail curling and uncurling pleasantly, unabashed by his nudity as he remained leaning laxly back against the rock, watching Ciel demurely, feline eyes aglow with mischief and the ever present desire he had for his mate. “Shall we retire for the evening my darling? I’ll feed you the fruit of Eden to regain your strength… Perhaps you’d be interested in an encore performance?”

“I’m not sure whether to call you a show-off or a greedy bastard right now…” Ciel grumbled, side-eying his partner, who seemed completely unaffected by their coupling, other than maybe being a little more tranquil. And though red wasn’t normally classified among the more soothing colours, the demon’s present hue held within them something serene almost like the irises were mingling slightly with their former angelic blue. He finally straightened, joints popping satisfyingly and pulled the demon off the stone, keeping his hand firmly in his own. 

Sebastian drew Ciel’s hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to the young man’s knuckles as Ciel tugged him away from his perch. “Mm, probably a little of both… But is it really so terrible if I can never get enough of you my darling?” he questioned, batting his lashes coyly at his lover, a playfulness in his tone and in his movements. He waved his other hand and opened the doorway that would take them home to their garden as he finished speaking, “I am so ensnared. I will forever be wanting you...” _I love you Ciel…_ echoed through their bond after his quiet words and he reached to brush his unoccupied fingers along with smooth flushed curve of his mate’s cheek lovingly. 

_As I love you,_ Ciel responded, squeezing his demon’s hand, fervent and possessive in his grip. They descended the steep stone steps, the Fallen turned away from their progress to watch his mate carefully should he misstep, keeping one hand securely in his taloned one while his other rested upon the mortal’s hip. Once safely at the bottom, Ciel was abruptly scooped up in his lover’s arms and carried in the direction of the familiar willow. “Was it… _alright_ for you, Sebastian? Honestly?” he asked, brushing his hand over the newly scorched silvered marking he’d imprinted on his mate’s shoulder. 

“Honestly… It was _perfection_ my darling,” Sebastian responded without missing a beat, a pleasant warmth sliding down his spine to pool at its base as Ciel’s fingers stroked over the brand he’d left on the Fallen’s skin that did not fade like so many others. “Mmn, and I meant what I said about that encore, love,” he finished as he bore Ciel over to their mossy bed and laid him down upon it, gesturing to the collection of varying fruit and nuts in a woven willow basket that had mysteriously taken up residence in the closest knotted root of the large tree, “Eat up sweetling. You must be starving.” 

“Not really,” Ciel responded, yawning and pulling Sebastian down with him, turning on his side, facing away from the demon and wrapping a scaled arm around himself, “I’m tired though.” They spent some minutes in relative silence, comfortable in their embrace, Ciel slipping in and out of consciousness, fighting it, just wanting to enjoy the moment as long as possible until he was seized by a very real, very grim thought. “I have to go back to work soon don’t I? I haven’t been contacted, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time… Do you think the Vatican could find me if we just hid out here?” 

“Only if you wish to be found my darling. If you wish to remain lost, all you need do is say so. I can take you places like here, beyond their reach… But… my kin will not stop searching and I believe your employers may have more answers than they are willing to share with you. But rest now my darling, this day and this evening are only for us,” Sebastian responded, pressing his lips to Ciel’s damp forehead, holding him firmly and enfolding his large wings over them, cocooning them in the inky canopy of his feathers. While his lover slept, Sebastian groomed him and fed him, sharing the saccharine flavours of the fruit that grew in his gardens and restored his mate’s energies, made him stronger, more vivid, his soul soaking in the sweetness with eager familiarity though Ciel slept on soundly.

Until Sebastian’s kisses woke him, warmed him and stirred him shamelessly, washing over him in dreamlike waves as his mate straddled him and impaled himself over and over again. His wings spread in ethereal archs, casting great fingered shadows over them and dappled in the translucent blue light between the weeping veins of the willow overhead as the Fallen exchanged elated bliss with his love, drawn inexplicably to refamiliarize their bodies with their heaven and revel in their belonging. And then they slept. And slept, curled together protective and protected as one being as if it had always been.

***

He slipped through the gap in the stone, through the doorway that was always left ajar for him. He crept down the steps silently, and into the soft sweet grasses, weaved between the foliage with worn familiarity, followed the scents he’d been pining for for days, weeks, so long now. At first he had been able to stay away, but it had become harder and harder to barre himself though he had been hurt and rejected. So he had begun watching from afar, slowly shifting closer until it seemed that things had become well again. He was nervous, but his master had assured him, the mistress would not turn him away again. And though he was hesitant, afraid his master was somehow wrong and he would be scorned and swatted away once more, he’d finally decided to stop hiding and following in the shadows. He wanted to walk aside him again, to talk, and play, and be doted upon again. He was determined; if his master could make amends, he too could do so.

He crawled into the plush, mossy bed, slunk beneath his master’s wings and pressed close to Ciel’s sleeping form, breathing him in and relaxing as he hadn’t in what felt like ages now. And he closed his eyes for only a moment, or at least he’d only meant to; it was just so warm and welcoming. He woke abruptly sometime later when the mortal began to stir and he scrambled away in panic, hiding himself up amongst the gnarled boughs of the willow watching over them.

_Exhausted in his current state from only having picked flowers for his and the angel’s bedside, Ciel lowered himself gingerly to the base of the willow tree, one hand against the trunk while his other was somehow supported by the small frame of a suspiciously strong blue-eyed dove. Once he was safely seated, his mate’s slender-tailed, graceful familiar nudged an apple that had been left in a nearby basket toward him, all while affecting an impression of the song the boy with child was humming to his belly. While the mortal ate ravenously, devouring even the core of the sweet fruit, the dove had made itself comfortable on the splayed soft thighs, wings spread protectively over the rounded belly, cooing at the presence within, vocalizing the softened, well-loved lullabye when Ciel had been busy swallowing._

_“You’ll be best of friends, won’t you, Ori? It’s like she was made just for you, isn’t it?” An answering nudge from within bumped against where the familiar had rested his head against the belly. The dove nuzzled it, devotion bleeding into the bond that already existed between he and the unborn child, then affectionately nipped the mortal’s finger, not interrupting his tracing of a series of protective runes over the soft flesh._

_Ciel shifted uncomfortably; it was difficult to get cozy at this point in his gestation, and while he was looking forward to meeting his daughter, he’d recently grown anxious and had taken to confiding in the dove. “Don’t tell Asmodeus, but I’m frightened. I don’t know how to be a parent; I’ve never had any myself with my father dying before I was born, and my mother dying of a broken heart soon after my birth. But you’ll help me, won’t you? You’ll protect her at all costs?”_

_A soft, drawn-out call echoed from Ori, his wings making a pleasant whirring sound as they fluttered against the mortal ticklishly, relaying his acceptance of the task he’d been waiting millennia to fulfill._

Ciel sat bolt upright, disoriented in both time and place, turning his head from side to side for answers. Sebastian slept soundly behind him, but not pressed against him as he normally was; and yet, the space that had been left between them was still faintly warm. “Poe? Are you there?” Ciel whispered, not wanting to wake his mate. A pining surged in the mortal as he eagerly pulled on some undergarments and got to his knees, following the pull of a bond that had been missing for some time, one that he had yearned for in his dreams, one that had left him feeling incomplete once he and his mate had taken the necessary steps to be made whole again. He knew, that there could be no real unity without the familiar, the extension of the very being that he had fallen in love with; Poe was as much family as Sebastian.

Poe shifted where he was among the branches, watching intently, frowning and keeping hidden amongst the vinery as Ciel became animated, woken from hs sleep abruptly as if he’d had a bad dream. He bit and sucked his bottom lip as Ciel called out to him searchingly, uncertain,but urged by the desperation in the young man’s voice. “Is mistress still angry with me?” he called in return, voice thrown between the branches and echoing while he remained cautiously obscured from view.

Upon hearing the apprehensive little voice, Ciel stilled by the bushes just some feet from his and Sebastian’s resting place. Something bleaker than melancholy and regret tugged at his heart; he’d been unnecessarily harsh with the familiar, had been so lost to his grief that he hadn’t realized that Poe had only wanted to keep him safe, to keep him whole. Could the small child sense his remorse? Would he let him get close enough to make amends? 

He crawled quietly along the densely branched area, wetting and puckering his lips slightly. With his mouth slightly open, Ciel positioned his tongue behind his two front bottom teeth and softly whistled the first few bars of Edward MacDowell’s [To a Wild Rose](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yheSY_nKfGY&list=RDyheSY_nKfGY). Without missing a beat, but ten times lovelier and ethereal than the mortal was capable, came the following measure. Ciel smiled to himself, eyes glistening with relief and comfort, recalling this very game he’d played with Poe as a child. It was a dirty trick, as he well knew, even as a child, since the familiar could not resist responding to melodies. He whistled back and the familiar responded with more enthusiasm, the sound of the melody sweetening, caressing every note before it left the child’s mouth and no longer found its way to weak mortal ears, but strong and vibrant in their bond. 

Nearing the end of the song, Ciel faltered, throat too thick with emotion to continue as he leaned over the bush, gently pushing aside the briars and branches, revealing the toddler-form of Poe, clothed as he’d been in Ciel’s youth, bright red eyes shining, chin quivering, worry naked on his face. “Found you,” the mortal cooed delicately, then scooped him up and pressed him to his chest reverently, “And I won’t ever let you go again…”

“You’ve said that before… Do you promise?” the familiar said, looking at Ciel shyly through wetly clumped lashes and worrying his bottom lip. He held his pinky up as Ciel had taught him once to make a proper promise, memories he possessed that his master did not, ones he was not allowed to recall, was not allowed to voice, but were mingling so frequently now with the second past and the present. He could feel it… It was getting stronger; the mistress was remembering, though his master had not yet earned the right to his own, even if he was becoming curious.

“I’m not sure what happened last time, Poe; I mean, I _saw_ it, but I don't _understand_ it.” Ciel pushed through the thicket where the familiar had been hiding, and took a seat with the child in his lap. He smoothed his cheek against the onyx silk stands, deeply inhaling the comforting scent and found the little digit still held up, waiting for him to add his own. Hooking his pinky with Poe’s, he turn his head, mumbling into the fine hair, “Whatever it was, it wasn't my choice to leave you and soon enough, it won't be anyone else’s either. I just have this last thing to do before I ask your master to share his immortality with me, then we’ll… we’ll be inseparable. It’ll be as it should be okay?” Ciel’s voice wavered as his mind drifted to his last recollection just before waking; he knew even now that the divinity that ran in his veins was far removed from what it had been and that _some_ miracles were not meant to repeat themselves.

Poe nodded against Ciel’s chest, releasing his pinky to instead reach up and remove the weighted little pouch around his neck, holding it in his hands and looking Ciel in the eye. “I know… And I know why you need the things you’ve been looking for. I know what you’re making,” he said, looking down at the pouch in his hands and back to Ciel before he offered it to him. “You need these right? Though you made it different this time, it’ll be the same,” he concluded, watching Ciel as he accepted the gift.

Ciel loosened the drawstrings of the little pouch and allowed the contents to spill out into his palm. A handful of pearly teardrop-shaped gemstones that could only belong to his demon filled his small palm; he remembered Sebastian had woken with glossy eyes, but in his own joy and serenity the morning after they'd made up, he'd forgotten about this crucial ingredient. “Thank you!” Ciel said earnestly, pressing his lips against the familiar’s head. He wasn't aware of having made another soul in his previous life, but that could be easily explained by the fact that he probably hadn't recalled that memory yet. No matter, he didn't dwell on it, instead, he stashed the tears back in its pouch, hiding them among the bush, then got to his feet with Poe still in his arms and made his way to the waterfall, “Come, I'll wash you, then we’ll play.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	35. Marionnette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: TFW: You lose all respect for that person you used to like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter full of... "Stuff"- some answers, some plot advancement, a prelude to some interesting sexy times :) Enjoy!  
> Thanks for the continued support and love! 
> 
> Here, have some **Music**
> 
> Sebastian~ [Fast As You Can by Our Lady Peace](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKkJGn8-uAU)  
> Ciel~ [Wires by The Neighbourhood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwcZ81SftVw)  
> Belial~ [Jesus Loves Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnB7Qbx32vo)

Sebastian had been unsurprised to see his familiar’s childlike human form tucked safely in Ciel’s arms upon his mate’s return and he could even admit it was nice for all of them to be one again. They bathed together and took their time in preparing to return to the apartment, though Ciel seemed somewhat anxious to return, more so than Sebastian expected, but he assumed perhaps his mate was finally missing his friends and his cousin now that his grief had been settled.

So it was that they returned to the flat that Ciel kept sometime in the late hours of the morning. His mate was particularly disappointed to find no post had been forwarded there, though Sebastian knew there had been. He looked at his familiar expectantly. The little boy stared back at him with a furrowed brow and a frown, obviously perplexed. It was clear when it dawned on him what exactly his master was expecting of him and he jerked into motion abruptly.

There was the quick patter of feet, the skidding halt and subsequent thump of Poe tripping on his way as he hastily went to retrieve the letters he’d meant to give to the mistress when he’d gone to find him in Eden. He’d forgotten in his elation. 

“Mistress! Mistress!” he called as he came bounding towards Ciel, tripping again and nearly bowling right into the young man, somersaulting and landing before Ciel’s feet and looking up at him sheepishly. “Mistress, these came for you. I’m sorry, I forgot to give them to you sooner,” he apologized, offering the envelopes to the young man and rubbing the back of his head with his unoccupied hand in embarrassment.

“I see… That’s where they got to hm? What a good, devoted, little familiar you are,” Ciel answered sweetly, crouching and grinning at the small child, patting his hair affectionately while he shot Sebastian a suspicious, but wholly unmalicious look. “And you would never, _ever_ have hidden all these,” Ciel counted them out as he fanned them in his fingers, “Twelve letters from me on purpose the way your master did, would you, Poe?” 

“Of course not Mistress!” Poe agreed with wide eyes, shifting on his knees and folding his hands in his lap. Sebastian snorted and raised a challenging brow at Ciel, as if daring him to scold him for having hid the letters from him. His mate had deserved the time away; they’d both needed it and he wasn’t going to apologize.

Ciel kissed the small child’s head and straightened, walking decisively past the demon to the sofa where he sprawled out lazily, curling a finger in Sebastian’s direction and beckoning him to have a seat at the other end. He smiled impishly at his mate, raising his legs to let him sit and placing his feet in the Fallen’s lap. “You know what they say, Sebastian… happy wife, happy life… For your concealment of my missives, I want you to read these out to me, please,” he teased cheekily, then added, “And rub my feet.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Spoiled,” he murmured despite the fact that his hands had already begun to knead at the young man’s feet with tender firmness. Poe climbed up onto the back of the couch and perched himself half on Sebastian’s shoulder, reaching out to take the first of the letters from Ciel in order to hold it so that his master could properly read it while his hands were otherwise occupied. Liquid sanguine cat’s eyes shifted over the text, narrowing suspiciously.

“ _The last Phantomhive,_ ” Sebastian began in an even, low tone, “ _A Devil loves me - this I know, for the raven tells me so. Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong. Yes, a Devil loves me. Yes, a Devil loves me. Yes, a Devil loves me. The raven tells me so. A Devil loves me, and she who died, Hell's gate to open wide. He will bathe me in his sin; let his little child come in. A Devil loves me, loves me still, though I'm very weak and ill. From my bedsheets and broken eye, comes to watch me where I lie. A Devil loves me! He will stay, close beside me all the way. Then his little butterfly will take down to hell where it will break…._ ” The Fallen paused, glancing at his mate while he finished what was on the parchment, “ _Come out come out to play little thief, no matter where you hide, Pride will find you and you’ll be mine. Be seeing you… P.S. So sorry to hear about your mother._ ” He stopped, lips thinned into a line. 

The letter had come sealed from the Vatican and as Sebastian had suspected all along, it was now obvious that the holy place was no longer in the charge of men. It had not come from Lucifer, but another that he knew well. He’d hoped not to cross Satan’s first son again; it’d been eras since he’d last met him. Belial had courted him once, had always been even after Sebastian had spurned his advances, and rejected his proposal. He should have known how far the elder demon would go, how willing he would be to assist Lucifer and how he would despise Ciel who’d taken the place he’d claimed for himself despite Sebastian’s refusals. He should have known... 

The mortal listened to his mate’s recital of the mocking verses of _Jesus Loves Me_ , head thrown back on the armrest, eyes gazing upwards and making out faint patterns in the stamped stucco ceiling. Heat seared just below his skin at the multiple taunts, like sparks trying to ignite a blaze, flashes of them flickering in his extremities, not blue as was their habit as of late, but incandescent white. Sooner than Sebastian even finished, Ciel stuck out what he thought was a steady hand for the letter, scorching the the edge where he took hold of it, and read it twice over before he balled it up in his fist, igniting it in a flame, then tossing its still smoking corpse to the floor. He brushed what filth was left on his hand off along the leg of his trousers.

Ciel had made his peace with his past (and present) as a thief, those words hadn’t bothered him; he also couldn’t give a damn about the parting jab about his mother, he knew she was well. And Pride was only tossed in there for Sebastian’s benefit, not his own; this wasn’t the work of Lucifer, that much he was sure of. But that the sender would threaten his relationship with his mate… _this_ is what had riled him so. He had expected such a thing after Mammon’s words, after Snake’s warnings. He knew that it would eventually come to this. He rose from the sofa and sat on the coffee table to face the Fallen, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he chose his words carefully. The tone he took on was one of barely suppressed indignation, “A declaration of war? Against a mere mortal, Sebastian? What kind of history do you have with Belial? Don’t spare me any details.” This time, there was no hint of his former jealousy lingering in his mind; Ciel had been assured of his place by his mate, had claimed the demon himself, more than once. Instead, a firm possessiveness, coupled with an unyielding ferocity to protect his family took its place, flooding through their bond. 

Sebastian’s hands curled against his thighs and he looked down at them for a long moment before he heaved a sigh and looked back at Ciel. “You remember I said I’d been courted once or twice…” he began, leaning forward and resting his forearms above his knees, “Belial is the first suitor I had. Apparently he was interested in me even before I had Fallen and regrettably when I did fall, I looked to him for guidance. He sought more than simply being my mentor, but I was not interested in being his mate. When I refused his proposal, he did not take it well… I may have disappeared and avoided him since… I’d thought he would have given up on pursuing me by now.” He inhaled an unnecessary breath and let it out slowly, wetting his lips before he concluded, “I’m afraid not even Lucifer has much control over him. He’s not like us as he was born Fallen. His father always had rather… _distinguished_ tastes.” 

“And he means nothing to you.” It was not a question, but merely a statement. Ciel leaned forward, hands on his mate’s knees, staring into crimson depths, waiting for Sebastian’s confirmation.

A frown formed between Sebastian’s sculpted brows, and his nostrils flared ever so subtly, “No, there is no meaning between him and I. I was only ever interested in what I could learn from him, nothing more than that. I’ve not seen or spoken to him in millennia nor do I wish to,” he replied evenly, meeting Ciel’s eyes unwaveringly. “Forgive me, my darling, but it hardly matters what I believe of our relationship. Belial believes something else entirely… From what I recall, he is… _unstable_.”

“Good, that settles it then,” he shrugged, getting up from the coffee table, quickly snatching the stack of mail from Poe’s little fingers and making his way to his office, “I’ll take more pleasure in finishing him off that way.” He sat behind his desk, opening a drawer and filed a financial statement away that he didn’t bother opening, threw two correspondences from distant relations away in the trash and settled on the other eight with the same loopy, childish scrawl he recognized from school. He took the intricate athame that had been gifted to him by a High Priestess from some Wiccan coven in New York and tore into the side of Soma’s first letter. 

Sebastian shook his head and slouched back into the sofa where Poe peered down at him curiously and reached to massage his temples for him without being prompted. “Ciel, please don’t speak so lightly of it. Belial is not someone that you should underestimate. He is vicious and unpredictable. You are not weak, but neither are you experienced in dealing with the likes of him. Just look how things turned out with Lucifer, with Mammon; you cannot afford to be arrogant,” he said quietly, closing his eyes as Poe continued his ministrations.

“It’s Belial that has underestimated _me_!” Ciel said through clenched teeth, feeling a thrum of possessive energy course through him like an electric current. It was as Snake had described; when he would finally have faith in his mate, he would be able to better control this gift that had been passed on. It mattered not that Sebastian did not have the same amount, he had enough for both of them. He flicked his wrist dismissively in the direction of the door, wishing to just tap into this newly found source, feeding off the relics and heirlooms in his proximity, and was not completely surprised when the door slammed shut under the weight of his annoyance. 

Sebastian went rigid as the door slammed shut. He sat up abruptly and stared at the door that hid his mate from view. “You should choose your words more carefully master. Mistress is sensitive,” Poe chastised and Sebastian snorted and waved him away before he stood up to follow his mate. 

He did not bother to knock on the door, letting himself in only to find himself pressed flat against it seconds after. He struggled against the compelling pressure curiously, eyes widening in what might be aptly described as intrigue and glowing with lurking pride. Perhaps he had underestimated his lover as well, though he did not think his advice was unwarranted. Even if Ciel was more practiced than he had first thought, Belial was not an enemy Ciel would be able to easily overcome and certainly not alone. 

“You’ve improved I see,” he said with a small curl to his lips, “But you should not be overzealous. You cannot afford to let your guard down for even a second,” as the words left his mouth, he pushed back powerfully against the barring pressure Ciel was exerting over him, to which it bowed and shattered, sending a smarting shock of backlash towards the young man, ruffling the papers on his desk and sending a shudder through the various relics in the room. Sebastian was upon him immediately, lacquered fingers gripping his throat with thrilling firmness, cat’s eyes slitted and mere inches from Ciel’s, “Any vulnerability is an opportunity for a devil to strike. And Belial will not hesitate to take you from me if you should leave him an opening. I do not doubt that you could destroy him my darling; I can feel the power in you. That is not my concern. You are still so full of humanity, prone to emotion-clouded decisions and righteousness which I don’t mean to say is a weakness or even undesirable, but when you face my kin, they will not hesitate to use it against you. You must be vigilant because I may not always be there to save you.”

Ciel’s eyes lowered to Sebastian’s moving lips, focusing on the way his tongue slipped out ever so slightly when he said certain words, then trailed back up to his garnet glare. He fixated on the rousing pressure gently constricting his airway, felt his pulse beat forcefully below the Fallen’s fingers and deliberately cocked his head, straining the muscles to make it more pronounced for the length of the demon’s sermon. As silence fell upon them, the mortal brought back his head, turning slowly, sinuously, his bittersweet breath bathing his lover’s face moments before he took his mouth aggressively. 

He felt Sebastian let his guard down only a split second, a meager lessening of his grip but it was all that was needed for Ciel to throw him up to the ceiling, slamming him hard enough that the plaster split and crumbled above him, falling as dust onto the desk and floor. Luminous flickering flames veiled in blue joined him immediately, circling him, branding into flesh and searing fabric as the pentagram of the Servant’s Snag drew itself upon him, trapping his body as certainly as if there had been a cage there. 

The small mortal licked his lips, his own pride buzzing in their bond to his beloved, sprawled, lovely and _vulnerable_. He climbed cautiously onto his chair, then to the large desk, standing just below the devil’s handsome face, mere inches away, as he stared up at him, bringing warmed hands to Sebastian’s shirt, and unfastening the buttons, one at a time, careful not to disrupt the marks left by the binding runes. “Even devils have their weaknesses, my love. I know yours… and we know Belial’s.” The shirt fell open, and Ciel ran his fingers over the exposed hard planes of the demon’s chest, dragging them down, tracing figure eights over and over as he made his way to the waistband. “Are you not Fallen? Have you not fed enough on your Kin? Instead of disappearing _again_ Sebastian, instead of avoiding him like some feeble demon, help me take him down.” _I refuse to be torn from your side. And I won’t let him take you from me. We have no other option,_ he professed fervidly through their bond, getting to the tips of his toes and pressing his lips against the devil’s. 

Sebastian smiled sharply, watching Ciel as he approached, biding time, waiting, patient, and when his mate’s lips met his own, his hands freed themselves from the tethers, wrapped around him and drew him in. He rolled his lover onto his back, caging him in within the cage of the Servant’s Snag. He pulled away from the heated kiss, forked tongue flickering out teasingly as he replied, “I did not say that we should hide. It would be of no use when he is not working alone. Our enemies have allied themselves and there is no place aside Eden that we could forever remain beyond their reach. I would not keep you caged like that my darling. After all, you are not my prisoner. I agree that we must take the offensive, but even with the new power I have consumed and what you have harnessed of your own, we cannot be reckless. Belial is clever and cunning. And he, like me, is no doubt aware of his weakness, preying upon it could prove to be more dangerous. I will not give you up no matter the cost; you are my greatest weakness and my strength. My sin and salvation.” As soon as he’d finished speaking, he’d pressed in for another kiss and another and another, along his mate’s jaw, to his neck, his collar, his chest, sooty fingertips finding their way beneath the layers of his lover’s clothing, caressing, reverent, and haunting on the mortal’s flesh.

Ciel’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted in a soundless gasp as his lover’s lips moved with familiarity, gliding over supple flesh and raising goosebumps. His legs locked firmly around Sebastian’s waist, bringing him closer, gravity forcing him to mold and crush his body to the demon’s in an endless sensation of falling. “Mm... I don’t know Sebastian, there are worse things than being your prisoner,” he sighed, head lolling from side to side and succumbing to his mate’s touch, “If this is how you promise we’ll spend our time, I’ll even go willingly.” 

“Is that so my darling?” the Fallen purred, lips ghosting back up along Ciel’s throat as his hands caressed up his torso, seeking out and thumbing over his nipples teasingly, “In that case, you have my word. I should be so lucky to keep such a pretty creature prisoner... How should I reward your good behaviour, hm?”

“Passionately,” Ciel said through ragged panting breaths and clutching Sebastian as the devil’s teeth caught a tightly furled bud between them and flicked his forked tongue unforgivingly against it.

***

It was a few short hours later that the couple reemerged from the mortal’s study, noticeably disheveled, their clothes torn and singed and Ciel being carried to the washroom by his mate who was rubbing soothing cool hands over the blackened bruises left in the wake of having been gripped tightly as he rode the demon suspended upside down from the ceiling. Still, the familiar had remarked that they both looked content as he followed them after having fetched the remaining letters Ciel had not had a chance to scan, and read them to his mistress as he lay relaxing against his lover’s chest in the bath.

Through the letters, it became quickly apparent to the mortal that while he and the demon had been busy making up and strengthening their bond, that the world had not stopped. In fact, his first few letters from Soma were full of condolences with the promise of picking up the slack on Vatican assignments so that Ciel could take the time to grieve his mother in peace. By the time he made it to the third letter, dated nearly a month later, Soma outright asked if he had “selfishly _forgotten_ to inform them (Lizzie, Agni and himself), that he was still alive and had not perished in the fire that had claimed his mother’s life as well as some couple dozen servants and acquaintances.” The tone of each successive letter became increasingly aggressive to the point where Ciel wondered if he’d actually fare better in a fight against the Fallen’s siblings rather than his own friends. And without a way of contacting Soma (since his last quarrel with Sebastian had brought about the destruction of his phone), Ciel thought it best to simply put matters to rest by visiting him at the Vatican where he’d been asked to sort through archives. 

“For the last time, Sebastian, this isn’t something that can be done over the phone; I _really_ fucked up and I owe it to Soma to show up in person to talk to him,” Ciel explained for the tenth time since they’d landed in Rome. He adjusted the clerical collar of his old school uniform and smoothed non-existent wrinkles from his trousers before, giving himself a last look over in the mirror. “Besides, I still look like a student from the Torino Campus, so I’ll have no trouble blending in; you on the other hand…” he said fixing his patch over his contracted eye and turning around to look at his mate dubiously. 

Sebastian snorted, reaching to adjust the binding of his mate’s eyepatch where Ciel could not see it had caught in his ashy navy locks as he stood before him. “You needn’t worry about me my darling. I’ll have no trouble blending in myself. But do be cautious won’t you? We have enemies that no doubt have made their homes within the precious _holy_ walls of the Vatican. Promise me that you will call for me if something should happen,” he replied, slitted gaze narrowed on the young man’s, his hands trailing down from Ciel’s hair to the sides of his delicate neck tenderly, “Please.”

Ciel turned his head and pressed soft lips to the devil’s hand, “I promise,” he whispered smiling into the kiss. “And if Poe returns with Snake, please have them wait for me here, this shouldn’t take too long.” He’d sent the familiar in search of his friend when Undertaker still hadn’t made an appearance, despite the fact that the mortal had all the necessary ingredients for the soul he was making his beloved. It was obvious that the ancient one was well acquainted with Sebastian, and Ciel wasn’t too keen on the idea of having him just show up uninvited when he still wasn’t ready for his mate to know of this particular undisclosed endeavour. He wrapped his arms around the Fallen’s neck, pulling him closer, smoothing his own skin against Sebastian’s, nuzzling the crook of the strong, graceful column, breathing him in then onto him, then snorted at his half-assed attempt to leave his scent on his lover, “There. I saved you the trouble, my love, now try not to worry so much.” He kissed his cheek, threw his book bag over his shoulder and made for the Vatican.

***

Within the half hour, Ciel found himself wincing at the loudness with which his patent black leather shoes resonated against the pristine floors of the archives section of the prestigious Sistine Hall of the Vatican Apostolic Library. A head of familiar lavish, plum locks hunched over what could only be the _Codex Vaticanus Graecus_ came into view in the more secluded section and he approached slowly, quietly as he could, not bothering to lower his voice as he spoke with a teasing tone, “It’s all lies.”

“Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick!” Soma’s voice rang out shrilly as the young man jolted in his seat at the sound of the familiar voice. A slim coppery caramel hand rose to cover his mouth as he whipped around, looking about to be sure his outburst hadn’t been overheard by one of the clergy. His eyes widened when they met the sight of his friend and he abruptly stood up. “Ciel! You jerk… You scared me! Where have you been? I was beginning to think you really had died!” he whisper-shouted, reaching to give the other young man a scolding little shove before he just as suddenly dragged him into a rib crushing hug, “I’m glad you aren’t dead. What are you doing here?”

Ciel folded across the table as he was pulled into the taller boy, all but flailing as his legs were lifted from the ground. “Picking up guys, obviously. I heard the Roman Catholic Church is still into small boys, so here I am!” he told Soma cheekily when he was released, rubbing his right side gingerly where the corner of the table had knocked the wind out of him. “What the bleeding Christ do you think I’m doing here? I came to see you. I got the sense that other than you thinking I was dead, you might have something for me? Did you find anything else out?” Ciel had known Soma long enough that they could gloss over the whole _“Sorry I led you to believe I was dead after not calling you when Phantomhive Manor burned down,”_ or the more awkward _“Are you okay after your mom’s death, can I cook you a casserole to make you feel better,”_ conversation. 

Soma pulled a face at the other young man, managing to hold it for only a handful of seconds before he grinned, shaking his head at Ciel’s usual antics. “Agni and I have been… perusing some of the unsanctioned records and texts in the ASAV (Archivum Secretum Apostolicum Vaticanum). There is one about… Well about Jesus’ lineage… Ciel, it talks about your family… Did you know?” Soma said, looking around conspiratorially before his golden gaze refocused on his friend as he pulled the old, leather-bound tome in question from the bottom of the stacked pile next to him and slid it towards the other young man.

“I found out recently,” Ciel hesitated saying as he sat in the seat next to Soma, “The same day I tried to save my mother from possession; my lineage did nothing to help me.” It had been true at the time. Who knows how things would turn now; surely a lesser demon wouldn’t pose a threat to his newly strengthening abilities should his loved ones be in danger, but they weren’t the ones after him or looking to hurt him either. “I’m gonna need you to go into hiding for a bit. And bring Agni and Lizzie. I know a place. It’ll be just for a little while,” he told his friend, leaning forward, no trace of humour in his azure eye, trying to convey his seriousness as well as the gravity of the situation. Whatever bravado he’d displayed towards his mate was only that; he refused to lose anyone else this way. 

“Is it… Because of _Asmodeus_? It’s your assistant isn’t it, Sebastian… Ciel, Lizzie told me you and he are… It’s true isn’t it?” Soma asked quietly, fisting his hands tightly against the tabletop. Ciel hadn’t told him anything...He understood why the other boy had kept it from Lizzie, but having kept it from Soma, who knew and shared a similar path with him, he was hurt. And he was concerned… Some of the things he’d read on the faded and delicate parchment that predated even Christ’s death, chronicled the birth of his son and an angel that quite literally fell for him. And later… How Ciel’s family had come to possess that angel after he had become a demon. Why hadn’t Ciel told him? And Soma had heard some things around the halls too; Ciel was in danger. Didn’t he trust Soma and Agni to help?

“That Sebastian… Asmodeus and I are what, Soma?” Ciel said, tearing his eyes away from the book to look at his friend. Since the auction, he’d been remembering things disjointedly, trying to make sense of everything, when Soma had been in possession of a book that had most of their past life spelled out for him in some kind of gospel-looking prose. Who had recorded this? How had they come to know all these details? He kept his finger on the bottom of the page where the writer had begun describing his first meeting with Asmodeus, waiting for the golden-eyed boy to answer him. Soma deserved his honesty; he just hoped that once he was done speaking, his friend would heed his warning and let himself be taken to safety.

“That you are lovers… Wait is that why you… What did you ask Undertaker for Ciel? And why should we go into hiding? What kind of danger are we in? Your mother didn’t die in a fire, did she? What the hell is going on? Lizzie is beside herself and I’m… I’m scared for you,” Soma said, his brows furrowing in concern, his tone both scolding and anxious and he crossed his arms firmly over his chest and sank back in his seat, staring at Ciel expectantly.

Ciel grimaced a little at Soma’s chiding tone, it was something he was used to coming from his cousin, but not his friend. A swell of guilt for all of his secrecy on the subject rose in his chest as he looked around to make sure they weren’t being overheard or watched. Some distance away, a bespectacled librarian was restocking the shelves, but paying them no mind. Ciel removed his jacket and put it over his seat then rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, bringing his left hand to hover inches over it. Soma opened his mouth to say something, but Ciel silenced him with a look moments before sparks rained down from his downward facing palm and enkindled the gilded markings for the other mortal to see, “We’re… A little more than lovers. Married. Bonded. Gladly fettered to one another.” He licked his lips before pressing on, “And I asked Undertaker exactly what I told you I would: How to make a soul for a demon. I finally got the necessary ingredients, but the bastard hasn’t shown up since I last spoke to him. Fuck, there’s just so much, Soma, and I can’t just tell you everything here. But you’re right, my mom didn’t die in the fire, like I told you, she was possessed, I couldn’t save her. Neither could Sebastian. The demons responsible for her death, who used my own mother to get to me, to Asmodeus, won’t think twice of using you and Lizzie to do the same. I can’t let that happen. Just please, let us hide you at least until this mess is done.” Ciel dog-eared the page he’d been reading, shut the giant tome with a thud and got to his feet, pulling on Soma’s hand, urging him to also stand. 

Soma watched Ciel for a long moment, the concern on his face deepening. “We’ll go, but… Just who are these demons Ciel? How will you beat them if they’re as strong as you say?” he asked, allowing Ciel to pull him to his feet.

“This is going to sound so far-fetched at this point,” Ciel began, ripping part of the text and writing down the address to the room he and Sebastian had secured for their stay in Rome and handing it to his friend, “But honestly, they’re demonic royalty. A couple of princes of Hell, and maybe some mortal sins. Just don’t worry about it, we’ll figure it out.” He turned away from the librarian who had spared them a few looks when their chairs had dragged against the floor once they stood up, but was busy again. He threw the book Soma had shared with him into his bag and hitched it over his shoulder, guiding his friend towards the exit with his hand on the small of the taller boy’s back. “Go get your stuff, and bring Agni there. My phone got _damaged_ in the aftermath of my mom’s death, so I have no way to contact Lizzie. Can you? And tell her to meet us there as soon as possible?” 

Soma was nodding as Ciel explained in a low tone and allowed Ciel to lead him towards the exit. The raven-haired librarian caught the shorter young man’s shoulder, pale, spindly fingered hand heavy on him as he cleared his throat. “That text is not to leave the library, I’ll need to see your identification if you please,” he said in a smoky drawl, honeyed green eyes glinting behind the thin framed lenses of his glasses, gesturing for Soma to continue on his way, while he kept Ciel firmly in place. 

“Go ahead and get ready, I’ll meet you at my place,” Ciel told Soma as he watched him walk away. He stood with his back to the _librarian_ for some minutes, trying to mentally tabulate how long it would take for his friend to leave the library, then the Vatican building altogether. When he was fairly certain that Soma had put enough distance between them, and that there was nobody else in the library he turned towards the familiar green eyes and set his bookbag on a nearby table, staring intently at the other man. “You know just about better than anyone that this book _belongs_ in my possession. What is it you _really_ want? What happened to Elias?” 

Leviathan grinned toothily at the young man, adjusting his spectacles with his now unoccupied hand, his sharp and mischievously glinting eyes watching his progression. “Nothing ever did get by you, did it?” he said familiarly, amusement in the words, before it turned bored in answer to Ciel's question, “I was only borrowing his meat for a time. I prefer my own much better. Humans are so dirty inside you know.” He gave a half bow, his smile broadening, “It's been such a long time little lordling. Forgive me if I was feeling nostalgic. Do you even remember my name?”

That he was a demon, Ciel was certain; but it hadn’t always been that way. He was Fallen, that made him an angel at one point, Ciel remembered Leviathan more familiarly in his mortal guise, hazel eyes, mid-length hair with a slight curl and beard to match. 

_Large hands reached out to him from the small sailboat, prompting him to jump into the strong arms of Peter, his father’s closest friend, the first apostle, the man who raised him, among others. “Was my father good at fishing?” Ciel asked the soft-spoken man as he watched him throw the cast-net into the water._

_“Your father was good at everything. He had advantages most men did not,” Peter had responded as Ciel watched the apostle divest himself of his tunic. The noon sun reflected off his tanned skin in ways that seemed impossible, throwing beautiful prisms into the darkened waters where his odd shadow loomed. It was grand, far greater than the boat itself, stretching some hundred feet from where he stood, with wings that seemed to stretch out and encircle their barge. And Peter’s skin was flawless, had not aged in the eight years Ciel had known him._

_“Because he was the son of God and he could perform miracles!” Ciel answered proudly, spinning about the mast playfully as his guardian spoke. He’d heard this sermon as far back as he could remember. Peter always spoke reverently about his father; less so about his mother, whom he seemed to dislike; the young boy assumed it was out of jealousy, he had been perhaps a little envious of their relationship. It didn’t matter much to Ciel, who had known neither of his parents. Peter, Mark, Luke and Matthew were all the family he knew._

_“Yes, and you are his greatest one. Now remove your clothes, you need to come help me retrieve the net from the bottom if you wish to have sardines for dinner.”_

_“But you can also perform miracles, Peter,” the child responded bringing his arms up so that his guardian could pull the surcoat overhead, “I’ve seen you call fish to the shore; why do we need to do this work?”_

_The man took a knee before him once he folded the young boy’s clothes and smiled sadly, cupping his cheek. “You have to learn my little lordling, if you are to be able to feed yourself and make a living as a fisherman. As much as I might want to stay by your side, I might not be able to.”_

“Peter,” Ciel affirmed as he foolishly took a step nearer the demon, hit by a sudden surge of nostalgia, “You fell? But how?”

Leviathan laughed, “Of course you would only remember the name your father gave me in the past, so sweet. As for how I became what I am? Isn’t it obvious? I always wanted what was not mine to have though it should have been. I deserved him more than the whore and you more than my bastard brother,” he answered, venom in his words as he spoke of Asmodeus and Christ’s once wife, the mother of the soul that resided in the young man before him. He was every bit as lovely as his former self had been, as his true father before him, lovely and belonging to another that did not deserve him. Why should Asmodeus have him? He’d had him once already and lost him. Why should he have a second chance when Leviathan had loved him longer, cared for and nurtured him? The boy should be his; it wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Leviathan,” Ciel answered, taking an awkward step back as he was hit with the bitterness and rancor in the Fallen’s voice. His hand searched blindly behind him for his bag and once in his grip, he tugged it off the table and made for the door. “Working at the library in the Vatican… kind of an upgrade from fishing, right? Well… it was nice seeing you again.” 

Moving more swiftly than any mortal eye was likely to catch, the Fallen appeared in front the young man, barring him from the door, pressing his body heavily back against it. He clicked his tongue, “Ah come now, stay a while little lordling. We’ve so much catching up to do,” he drawled, gesturing in a wide arc with one hand towards the desks once more, his smile dangerous and too sharp.

“I’m afraid you caught me at a bad time, demon, I have a prior engagement. Now please get out of my way before I’m forced to make this a family reunion,” Ciel warned in return, not at all appreciating being delayed when he had so much to do. He tried to sidestep him again, but once more Leviathan blocked his path, shifting his stance threateningly, raising his arm and planting a hand on the ornate golden door frame, pulverizing the soft metal in his grip. Ciel looked pointedly at the arm barring his way, then up into the narrowed, toxic green eyes, schooling his expression into one of bored exasperation. 

“My my, so selfish...Well I can’t say I’m surprised; you always were rather spoiled. It’s in your blood, you know. You shouldn’t be so hasty… You don’t have the time to waste rushing. This doesn’t have to be _that_ sort of meeting. We could just get _reacquainted_ ,” the demon purred, reaching for Ciel, turning him swiftly and pinning him to the door, leaning in and inhaling his scent audibly, and exhaled against the ashy navy locks brushing Ciel’s nape, “You don’t know how I’ve missed you little lordling. How I’ve been pining.”

“Mm… I have an idea, Leviathan,” Ciel responded acidly, shuddering against him, “It’s how I feel when I’m away from your brother.” He threw his head back, hitting the demon full in the face with his skull and heard the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage. It bought him only enough time to turn in the Fallen’s grasp to see Leviathan, still inches from him, screwing up his face, mouth gaping open in a bid to right his obviously broken, but bloodless nose. An angry, frustrated surge of energy pulsed through the mortal, pushing the demon roughly to the side and into the nearby table, knocking off books and lamps and sending them crashing loudly to the floor. Ciel turned anew to twist the brass handle, shaking it violently as it refused to budge. 

“That wasn’t very nice little lordling. I’m not going to hurt you… Much,” Leviathan replied, his nose audibly shifting back into place and righting his glasses. Once he’d straightened his appearance, he decided it better to use other means to take the mortal. He raised a hand, palm forward, freezing Ciel’s body, threads of sin attaching themselves to the seeds of envy within that all humans possessed. He turned his hand, moving the young man’s body like a puppet. He chuckled as the shocked and anxious expression flickered in Ciel’s face before he managed to compose it once again. 

“You look confused… Ahh, because of those wards Asmodeus adorned you with… This is not possession. You see, in all humans there is envy. They may escape the others, but they can’t escape me. A spare son, a jilted lover, a young mother, even those most holy have me in their hearts little lord, even you… And it _invites_ me in,” he said, licking his lips predatorily as the grip he held on Ciel’s body tightened and moved him against his will, jerkily as if he were made of wood. The demon could perhaps not invade and control his mind, only his physical body, but that was fine; he didn’t want a silent, thoughtless doll anyway.

Ciel’s limbs stiffened and felt like lead. Each time he tried to move, to resist the numbing, the throbbing began, sickening and insistent in his mind, spending his energy as well as bending and contorting his body in ways that only a lover should witness. It cost too much to call forth his divinity, the best he could do was summon a searing heat to his bonding runes, trying to keep them pure and untainted by the demon before him. 

He fought against the envy that insinuated itself physically, while darkened green misted tendrils curled around his head uselessly, biding its time, waiting for an opening, a slip, a vulnerability. The mist draped itself heavily over the uniform he wore and dissolved the fabric one thread at a time as though unwrapping a gift with meticulous attention. When it made contact with his skin, he felt an involuntary twitching of his extremities and sought to deny the pull of the sin, to dismiss that he had ever wanted to be like Lizzie who got to choose her path in life, or like Soma who’d stumbled onto an easy, drama-free love with Agni. He refused to admit the truth behind wishing ill to every single lover Asmodeus had taken over millennia, to steal every kiss he had shared, every touch that had passed between his bonded and another, to covet every sound of pleasure his demon had ever made in his absence and claim them as having caused them himself. But then he began to revel in the begrudging resentment, and as his mind was still his own, he was able to switch the perspective, to see things as others might have perceived them. He fed off _their_ envy; the clubgoers who’d writhed and begged to be in his place, who found their release over and over in his presence but felt none of the satisfaction that even a modicum of his lover’s attention or approval would have elicited. Of Belial who had chased his mate without success, who would have Ciel suffering and killed and would still be without Asmodeus, while he himself had been wooed, revered and worshipped by both the Angel of Love and the Demon of Lust. 

He grinned arrogantly at Leviathan, stopped resisting him as he was moved like a marionette and splayed on a long table. A low wanton sigh caught in his throat as his body thrummed with the sin the demon was imposing potently on him, and the more he gave into it, the more the Fallen’s grip loosened. “Mm… feels so good to be envied,” he purred, able to arch his back wickedly as he shivered with pleasure at his core. “More… wanna feel your sin Peter…” Lust and envy spread through him, beckoning and luring, a call waiting desperately to be answered.

Leviathan inclined his head, lowering his lashes behind the lenses of his spectacles, watching the young man, his nostrils flaring as he scented the arousal. He’d smelled it before, the night in the club and knew for whom it was meant. But it didn’t matter; he would show him. He was better than his brother, the human just didn’t know it yet, but he would. He would…

He stepped forward, slid his hands along the delicate, firm curve of Ciel’s sides, ran his tongue along his jagged teeth, tasting the air. He watched like a spider, waiting until the butterfly had entangled itself wholly in his web and struck swiftly to bind him further to be eaten at his leisure. And he would devour him slowly, a single strand at a time. Asmodeus didn’t love him as Leviathan did. He leaned in, nosing along the column of Ciel’s throat, inhaling thickly, lips whispering over sweat-damp and bittersweet skin, “Hnn, give yourself over to me little lordling. I’ll take such care of you…”


	36. Spitroast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral is "practice what you preach."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter is mostly self indulgent and so filthy. And extra long, hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> There will be more artwork to come hopefully in the next few days. Thank you for all the love and support! And as always, kudos and comments are welcome!
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Crazy For You by Hedley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjkJ9-pAXHY)  
> Ciel~ [Devil Inside (Cover) by Powerman 5000](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrkNvva7KAU)

“I think not. He cannot give you something that does not belong to him,” came a low, dangerous growl, accompanied by a searingly chilled gust, “The same as ever little brother, stumbling along in my shadow and trying to steal my things.” Sebastian glided from the shadows, eyes aglow with possessive fire, adorned in the dark robes of a professor belonging to the holy institution, wrapped around his form comfortably, sinfully embracing his torso and hips, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his straight nose, delicate silver chain strung between the arms of the spectacles and beaded rosary slung with false piety about his neck.

Charcoal nails glinted as the elder Fallen’s hand cut through the air, severing the sickly green threads webbing over his mate’s form with the smoky fingers of his own power. He’d felt Ciel’s desire for him through their bond, felt the silent call, the desperate prodding compelling him to seek him out. And so he had, dragged away from his own investigations only to find Ciel in the arms of Envy hidden away in the unsuspecting library, caught in his brother’s webbing and playing coy. And though he knew that arousal in the mortal was meant for him and not the other, he still felt the covetous possessiveness surge in him, searing jealousy pulsing in hot waves beneath his skin, betrayed paranoia and overzealous rage, such was the irrational nature of Envy.

Leviathan snarled, viciously baring his teeth and reared back as if he’d been burned, clawed fingers tensed and poised with threat as he whirled on his brother, eyes flashing with malicious venom. “I raised his soul! He should be mine! _You_ stole him from me!” he accused with a quivering ferocity. 

Sebastian merely snorted his derision; he wasn’t entirely certain what Leviathan was referring to, but he had some vague recollections, hazy and unsettled in his mind, but it didn’t matter to what offenses he accused him. “He’s _never_ been yours. You should not delude yourself and think to doubt his devotion. Ask him to whom he belongs. To whom he chooses to entrust his soul,” he said, his gaze no longer on the other demon, but meeting Ciel’s while Leviathan was distracted and blinded by his jealousy.

Ciel sat up on his elbows once freed from Envy’s physical bindings and held out a hand to his mate.“That took you long enough, _Professor Michaelis_ , how much time did you expect me to keep up such a despicable act?” He was pulled to his feet a little aggressively, fell into the robes of the taller man and held there pressed taut against his lover’s arousal. He sensed the dangerousness in his mate’s rigid posture, saw it in the slight flaring of his nostrils, his flaming, narrowed eyes, his tight-lipped sneer and Ciel thought it was thrilling. The possessive jealousy that thrummed inside the devil, ran like an electric current through their bond, fed by their combined fidelity and devotion, the demon’s sin only added to the mortal’s salvation. It surfaced abruptly and shot through the tips of Ciel’s fingers in the direction of the interloper, making him fall to his knees and bend over penitently. 

Ciel’s hand caressed his demon’s face, the back of it gliding along his lover’s jaw, to his chin and up to his lips again. “Only you, my love. This soul is yours, all yours,” he said, turning his head towards Leviathan, who was snarling at them both from his frozen position on the floor, “ _Only yours_. Then, now, and forever.”

Leviathan spat curses and hissed at them, struggling against the pressure Ciel’s divinity was exerting over him. He’d unestimated the arrogant, beautiful, little mortal, foolishly been taken in by his clever tricks.It wasn’t his fault; he just wanted him so badly…

Sebastian chuckled quietly, smoothing his left hand down over Ciel’s shoulder to spread his black-lacquered fingers over his breast, chin on his mate’s other shoulder as he watched his brother be subdued. “So weak little brother… You never did learn to curb your nature, too quick to your own sin,” he chided huskily, possessively running his hands over his spouse, “Perhaps if you’re cooperative, my lord might have mercy.”

Ciel’s right hand stilled Sebastian’s where it lingered on his hip bone, long, slender fingers splayed downwards as it groped eagerly after having found and accessed the inside of his waistband. He pressed back into the demon as though trying to sate a carnal itch, head tilted upwards, looking at him impassionedly, “I’ve no mercy for someone who called my mother a whore, even less so for someone, other than my bonded, who’s tried to devour me. Besides, you’re hungry aren’t you, Sebastian?” He turned to face his mate and kicked back his foot in a barely noticeable gesture, watching over his shoulder as Leviathan arced through the air and fell heavily against the bookshelf into which he’d been thrown, causing a deluge of burdensome tomes to fall upon him. He looked at his lover again, a shapely brow raising mischievously as he wrapped his arms around the academic regalia and smiled sheepishly, _Look love, I’m tenderizing him for you; he’ll be delicious. Just think of the fun we’ll have working Envy out of your system._

“Famished,” Sebastian answered with a razored grin and a predatory glint beneath his lashes. _How thoughtful of you my darling. You do keep me so well-fed and you’re so helpful in sating my nature after,_ he murmured inwardly, pressing his mouth to the side of Ciel’s neck, sucking and nibbling at the mark he’d branded there what seemed forever ago now, _Would you believe I’ve never had the opportunity to make love in a library? I always wondered if the screams would echo louder or be absorbed by the books… I’m rather looking forward to finding out, I must say._

A wheezing growl sounded from Leviathan as his body contorted and writhed, limbs twisting at inhuman angles as he fought against the push and pull of Ciel’s blood. He clawed at the shelving, awkwardly pulling himself upright again and supporting himself there with some difficulty. He sneered at the couple viciously, attempting to lash out in retaliation, the sharp, poisonous tendrils snaking towards them, malicious in their intent. 

Ciel sighed exasperatedly, bored by the feeble show of power by his mate’s younger sibling. A table was flung lazily in the way of the tight venomous coils, absorbing their booming impact, splintering the thick, ashy ironwood and wafting sawdust onto the floor. The mortal’s hand shot out towards the hellish annoyance, twisting in the air as invisible tethers tied themselves firm and fast around Leviathan’s neck, strangling and gagging him. “There you are, husband dearest, the answer to your question; the books absorbed nothing. My screams while I impale myself on you will carry loudly throughout this space. But what of your groans and growls?” Ciel said using his unoccupied hand to dig through the long robe, searching and seeking through the layers until he found the prominent swell in his lover’s trousers and gave it a harsh squeeze. 

A hitched growl sounded from the Fallen’s chest as his mate gripped him through the folds of the dark robes he’d donned. “Indeed, the acoustics are as splendid as I’d hoped,” he agreed huskily, rolling his hips into the pressure of his mate’s hand lazily, reveling in the intimate contact and smirking at the envious glow cast from his little brother’s gaze.

Leviathan hissed and cursed hoarsely as his power was cast back at him, further irritated by the display the couple were making, just for that purpose, no doubt. The smug grin on Asmodeus’ face was proof enough. They would destroy him; his brother would devour him as he had the others. Leviathan valued one thing above anything else and that was his own life. Certainly he wanted Ciel, deserved him, but not at the expense of his own existence. Though… Perhaps there was a way.

They were approaching him now and the strangling pressure at his neck was somewhere beyond uncomfortable, searing and frigid, unrelenting and almost possessive, almost pleasant even. “Wait,” he croaked.

“No,” Ciel said dismissively, turning away from Sebastian to glare into the envious green depths. He'd been toyed enough with by these damnable things and he wasn't going to give Leviathan the opening he was looking for to take advantage of the situation. “You have one use at this point, to make my mate stronger. Consider it a privilege.” He took a step forward, unrelenting in his grip around the demon’s throat while his other hand summoned the divine flames required to keep him rooted to the spot. 

“It’s… about… the others,” the younger demon wheezed desperately, clawing at the floor spasmodically. His claim gave Sebastian pause and he raised a hand to stay his mate’s.

“You always were so quick to disloyalty just to save your own skin, little brother,” Sebastian mused, narrowing his scarlet eyes on the other devil with suspicious interest and humming thoughtfully, nuzzling against the side of Ciel’s neck affectionately. “Let him speak. At the least, it will be entertaining,” he murmured against Ciel’s ear and rocked his hips against his mate’s backside.

 _You said not to give devils an opportunity, Sebastian. You’re playing right into his trap…_ Ciel warned through their bond, _He’s simply trying to save his own _skin_ ; whatever comes out of his mouth isn’t going to be reliable in the least._ The torrent of fire, resembling a pyre surrounded the younger Fallen, erupting from the floor, scorching the ceiling and effectively caged the demon where he was sprawled on the floor. If Ciel was to lessen his hold, he would make sure Leviathan could not escape. He knelt down, mouthing the same incantation that generations of Phantomhives before him had used to enslave his mate, to keep him prisoner and cause him anguish should he try to break free. Divine runes joined the enochian ones, dancing in the flames, embers illuminated in gold. He stood again and brought his hand down, “Speak. And be quick with it. I have a demon to sate.” His chest heaved in anticipation, fingers twitching at his sides as Sebastian rolled his hips behind him. He needed this to be over with, they’d been too long in Envy’s presence and the more they dragged out this _reunion_ , the more he craved his beloved. 

Sebastian smiled again, the curl to his lips decidedly amused with a feral sharpness to it as he watched his mate’s flames dance, keeping the other devil caged with so little effort. Pride and desire swelled in his chest and spread under his skin heatedly. He pulled Ciel back against him and spread his fingers over his firm belly, stroking idly as he refocused his sanguine stare expectantly on Leviathan.

Leviathan licked his lips, ran his hands through his hair and adjusted his glasses and clothing as the hold Ciel had been impressing upon him dissipated, replaced by the bars of a holy confinement. But that was fine, at least he had Asmodeus’ attention. He swallowed and wet his lips against, wiping his hands on his thighs and fisting his fingers in the fabric of his trousers. “He’s not safe Asmodeus. You know that don’t you? Even if you devour me, even if you grow stronger. Belial would see him strung up and split open and Lucifer wants him for his own which you and I both know is worse… But I could hide him for you. I could keep him safe while you attended to them. I’ll even give my word I won’t touch him without permission. It could benefit us both. He’s not strong enough, not to stand against Lucifer and his mate, just like last time. Think about it Asmodeus…”

Sebastian’s gaze narrowed further and his smile turned vicious, not quite recalling what Leviathan was referring to, but angered by the mention of Lucifer and Michael, just as he had been in Ciel’s treasure room at the apartment.

Ciel crossed his arms over his chest, and looked from Leviathan to his mate with a look of pure disgust, “Oh, please! You can’t honestly be considering this, Sebastian! His word doesn’t mean shit and you know it. He’s shown himself utterly disloyal towards your siblings just now and he has even less reason to pledge his allegiance to you. You sense it don’t you? How much he loathes you?” 

Sebastian gave his mate a squeeze, a dark, breathy chuckle washing over Ciel’s flushed skin. “Of course I know my darling. The sentiment is mutual as he well knows, but he is not lying either. His own snivelling existence means more to him than his pride, though he is also not being so honest either. He would of course steal you away from me in a heartbeat like a common thief if the opportunity presented itself. You needn’t be affronted, I’ve no intention of leaving you in the care of such a guileless creature,” he assured quietly, pressing his lips beneath Ciel’s ear just over his pulse.

“Prove your worth and I’ll consider sparing you little brother,” he ordered, turning his attention back to Envy’s disheveled and desperate form, “Tell me where Belial is hiding. I know he’s here. I can smell him.”

Leviathan shook his head, slinking back into himself and muttering. He lashed out at the bars suddenly, rearing back as Ciel’s flames burned him and he snarled and hissed angrily, “You’ll be seeing him soon enough. He’s coming for the little lordling… You won’t get another chance like this. I won’t offer again. Go ahead and devour me big brother. It won’t bring you salvation. You will lose him again. You never did deserve him.”

Ciel’s eyes widened a fraction before they narrowed in on the desperate demon, “Enough!” A tide of anger burst through the mortal, slashing through the air, diffusing out of him like a shock wave and rattling him down to his core. It would have knocked him over had Sebastian not held on to him so tightly. As it was, Leviathan had not been able to withstand its intensity and it had sent him barrelling into the flames, searing his flesh, filling the library with great bellows and gasps, all profanity and animalistic noises. Ciel’s lip curled in a sneer of contempt as he used his hand to pull the demon forward, scalding his front, then closed his fist in an attempt to drag him through, slamming him repeatedly against the fiery bars. He broke from his mate, shaking him off, his steps echoing against the floor, competing against the yowls and feral snarls until he came face to face with the ancient apostle. “You’ve wasted enough of our time, Peter.” 

“Little Lordling, your time is only borrowed anyway.You have so little of it left and still you can act so arrogant, just like your father and our father before him. It’s no wonder we all fell in love with you,” Leviathan breathed raspily, tar-like blood staining the corners of his wide mouth, lining his jagged teeth and dripping in sizzling drops from his chin and his body seized, convulsed and steamed from the holy wounds he’d accumulated. 

“He belongs to none of you! And none of you will have him,” Sebastian interjected darkly, moving as a serpentine sooty shadow, passing through the bars of the cage his lover had erected with no trouble, embraced and welcomed by the flames familiarly. Inky tendrils crawled across the floor, whispering hungrily as they approached the other Fallen with Leviathan’s own sin reflected in his smoldering garnet gaze. 

Leviathan tried to back away, but there was nowhere to flee, his back pressed against the looming heat of Ciel’s holy fire, and then to lash out only to be swatted away as nothing by his brother’s vicious power. Asmodeus was a force unto himself now; Envy hadn’t believed it and the others did not yet know how powerful he had become, how changed he was with the consumption of their brothers and sister and now they wouldn’t. And no doubt, he would be even more so after he devoured him as well. 

He began begging in the language of angels, the words becoming strangled as the smoky fingers of Sebastian’s nature wrapped themselves around his brother’s neck, steadily silencing him. The elder Fallen clicked his tongue derisively and wagged a scolding finger at Leviathan. He pressed him back tauntingly against the flames, letting them singe and blister his flesh further and he looked back over his shoulder at his mate beyond the bars, “Shall I eat him now my darling?” he asked, forked tongue flickering over his serrated teeth in a predatory display as his inhuman form bled through his human guise alluringly.

“Yes, but do mind your clothing, I quite like this look on you, _Professor_ ,” Ciel said, inching closer to his mate, pressing himself flush against the incandescent bars and pulling Sebastian into him, trapping the flames between them as they licked inoffensively at their exposed skin. “Here, allow me to assist you.” The mortal’s hand fumbled blindly through the layers of his lover’s cassock and untucked the dress shirt he wore under it with care, then splayed his fingers across the firm, fluttering muscles of the demon’s abdomen. Blunt nails dug into the flesh possessively as Ciel pushed his already aching arousal sinfully against his lover, conjuring a blackened essence from the begging, jagged gash of Leviathan’s mouth with something like a purred, seductive song. As Sebastian held tight to his brother’s neck, the hand his lover was not using to trespass his undergarments, curled and waved lazily, tempting the sooty lifeforce torturously to leave its host, teasing it out a wisp at a time, entwining it around his finger and offered it to his spouse from behind him. 

Leviathan’s form went taut, writhing and twitching, clawed fingers curled and frozen in agony as the essence of his core was coaxed out of him against his will. Sebastian licked his lips, opening them to admit the first tendrils of his brother’s being into his mouth, forked tongue flickering out to tickle Ciel’s fingertips as he growled his approval gutturally, groping at his mate with his free hand and rocking his eager manhood in Ciel’s taunting grip. His tail slithered from the back of his robes and coiled itself around the young man’s waist, beneath his clothing to prick at already peaked and arousal flushed nipples, reveling in his mate’s possessive touch and the echoing reflection of it through their bond. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and the more of the younger Fallen he devoured, the more his own possessiveness grew, taloned fingertips pressing into Ciel’s skin, vicious in his desire to be closer, to claim and possess and covet as he attempted to draw him further against himself though the bars still separated them. He couldn’t feel him enough.

When Envy went limp and there was no remaining lifeforce to keep him upright, Ciel gave up on maintaining the blazing prison that kept him from his mate. He turned Sebastian around in a swift movement, fists locked onto his robe and took his mouth aggressively, stroking his tongue along the devil’s forked one, tasting the over-sweet, smoky flavour usually associated with bourbon that was Leviathan’s essence. He moaned deep and felt it vibrate low in his chest, pulled Sebastian down to him, molding his lover’s body to his own, desperate to not only taste his mouth, but his face, his jaw, his neck… “Are you done? I… I want you...” the mortal rasped, pulling away breathless, head spinning, as he felt the darkened tendrils of his lover’s nature draw him in unbearably close, almost unto the point of discomfort. _Almost_. 

Sebastian swallowed the mingled taste of his lover and the sooty remnants of his brother and growled his approval ferally with Ciel’s words and the grip of the younger man’s fingers. Dilated scarlet depths met his mate’s beneath the veil of thick lashes between them and they were so close, they shared breath, and still it was not enough. Ciel’s wanting only amplified his own and the need to covet and possess, to touch him everywhere at once became torturous. He roughly took his mouth again, feeding him his forked tongue and reveling in the nip of teeth against it as he ran his palms along Ciel’s sides, his thighs, his back, all the places he could reach with only two hands and then when that wasn’t enough, another pair joined them. Fingers explored the young man’s lithe chest, lingered on his nipples and down his fluttering belly, lower, as a second set of smooth, warm lips pressed against the nape of his neck. “How badly do you want me my darling?” The devil’s voice came in a hot wash of breath and silk behind his lover’s ear, though his mouth should have been occupied elsewhere.

 _I ache for you, Sebastian. It’s excruciating. Touch my... Ahhh… I’m so hard, it feels like I might die if you don’t,_ Ciel answered through their bond, mouth still devouring his mate’s, kissing him with brutal carnality. He pulled him so tightly against his body, he could feel his demon’s arousal digging painfully into his stomach… and his back? A hand plunged into his trousers after viciously tearing the buttons away, wrapping long, slender fingers around the base of his cock, then a second gave a harsh tug at the waistband, snapping his suspenders from their clasps to let the trousers fall and pool around his ankles then cupped his sac and squeezed tenderly. A third hand gripped his hair, burying itself in the cool silk strands, a fourth pinched and tweaked a sensitive nipple. 

He gasped, pulling away from the lips at his mouth, the devil’s serrated teeth cutting into the bottom one and splitting it. Blood wept from the gash, running down his chin and he awkwardly extracted himself from the hold that came posteriorly, spinning sharply in Sebastian’s arms. He expected, with a great deal of trepidation, to see Envy standing before him, even though he could see him sprawled and lifeless to his left. His head whipped back, tilting upwards in confusion to look at his lover, holding him, then to… “I… I don’t… what the _hell_ is going on, Sebastian?” he demanded, clinging to the robes of the demon he’d been kissing. 

Sebastian smiled coyly and leaned in to lap up the blood trailing down Ciel’s chin ticklishly. “I need to feel you more my darling, what better way than to have my shadow come play with us. He is me, there’s no need to be nervous,” he explained, petting at Ciel’s skin, kneading tenderly as his doppelganger tentatively replaced his hands on the young man as well. 

“Don’t ignore me; you’ll make me feel lonely,” the shadow commented, pressing in against Ciel’s back again, trailing his fingers down his thighs lightly and pressed his lips to the side of his lover’s neck, meeting his twin’s gaze with his own and smirking against Ciel’s skin.

Ciel’s head tilted, resting on his own shoulder to give the devil more access to his neck. His mismatched eyes fluttered as he gazed up at his spouse, half lusting, half mystified by the onslaught of sensation as Sebastian’s hot breath bathed his face, while the shadow’s fingers tenderly pushed fabric aside to run his tongue in slow wet circles against the skin where the soft curve of his neck met the smooth line of his shoulder. _You’re sure?_ He asked through their bond, internal voice shaky with restrained arousal and embarrassed eagerness to be pressed between two Sebastians in such a holy place. 

_Positive,_ came the immediate response before Sebastian’s silkily purred voice continued through their bond, _You are excited, I can tell. Do you like this my darling, being surrounded by me like this?_ His hands were wandering again, clawed fingertips teasing along the young man’s straining erection, fluttering lightly, too lightly, along the underside and beneath the head, lazily spreading the slick fluid weeping from its tip. His counterpart sucked a mark into the sensitive skin behind Ciel’s ear and nibbled at the lobe while his hands explored his lover’s chest, seeking out his nipples again and rolling the peaked nubs between his equally dangerous fingertips while grinding his own hardness against Ciel’s backside.

Of course the demon could tell he was excited! How could he not, with how his pulse was visibly thumping beneath his delicate flesh, how his harsh pants grew more desperate as two sets of lips drew the skin of either side of his neck between their teeth, nipping it, before soothing the small hurts with their tongues. “Mmn… You’ve kept this ability from me, my love? What other pleasures are you hiding?” the mortal whispered amidst moans and sighs, wedged pleasantly and tightly between his lovers. Ciel’s cock was throbbing in the devil’s hand and he returned the favour by reaching back to grasp the doppelganger’s heavy familiar stiffness, squeezing the length poking through his robes. The resulting growl resonated loudly, echoing off the ornate cathedral ceiling and the bookshelves lining the walls. “Ohh… _You're_ the vocal one… I like that,” Ciel teased lowly, claiming him with a kiss, pumping his arousal languidly, pushing himself against Sebastian and feeling the envious neglect flow thick in their bond.

The shadow let out a rumbling purr of agreement, thrusting vaguely into Ciel’s grip, eyes glinting challengingly at his twin, grinning when Sebastian growled and bore his teeth at him in possessive warning before his attention was wholly focused on his lover once more. “My darling, the things I am capable of showing you… You’ll come to know them all in time; the possibilities are _endless_ ,” Sebastian replied huskily, “Certainly nothing my shadow could do on its own.” As he finished speaking, he gripped Ciel’s cock firmly and gave it a rough stroke, twisting his wrist beneath the head and thumbing over the leaking tip with familiar pressure, ignoring the snort and eyeroll from his identical counterpart in response to his words. 

Ciel exhaled again on a throaty moan, knees trembling slightly with the delicious pressure that was at once soothing the ache in his cock and intensifying it tenfold. His hands dropped from his lover’s twin and gripped the beaded rosary around Sebastian’s neck, pulling him level to his face, pleading beseechingly through gritted teeth, “Whatever it is he can’t do, he’s certainly skilled at… Ah… Ahh…” Ciel’s eyes rolled back as his hips were drawn into the shadow’s, the press of a slick hard cock rubbing itself enticingly in the cleft of his rear. 

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring as the scent of his lover’s arousal spiked headily. “At _what_ my darling?” he questioned, a dark quality leaking into his voice as he strangled the base of Ciel’s manhood, peering at his shadow suspiciously. His doppelganger only gave him a cheshire smile and licked his lips, still rocking against Ciel, both of them fully aware of what he was doing. 

_Don’t you know, Sebastian?_ The mortal sighed, smirking, intoxicated through their connection, eyes closed as the shadow’s demonic cock slid teasingly between his cheeks, occasionally pulling back and nudging his entrance, causing both he and the twin to shudder against one another. The shadow’s hands held his chest more tightly, possessively caging him against his taller form and rutting himself with increased fervour the more the groans fell from Ciel’s lips. “Are you only going to watch, lover? Do you not want me as much as… Mmnfuck! As much as he does?”

Sebastian growled lowly, struggling with his possessiveness and the unmistakable itch of Envy he felt towards his counterpart. What he was planning, what Sebastian _knew_ his shadow desired was only for him; no one would have his mate that way except him even if it was a reflection of himself. _Of course I know my darling and you well know how I want you, how I **ache** for you… He is but my shadow, not privy to our bond as I am,_ his inner voice answered edgily, aware that Ciel was taunting him, but unable to keep the feral bite from his tone and the threads of jealous possession from the bond they shared.

His twin made an appreciative sound as he rubbed the head of his cock against Ciel’s entrance warningly, prodding insistently with the intent to enter him and Sebastian could feel it, but he didn’t care for the second hand intimacy that should only be his firsthand. Ciel shuddered and inhaled sharply and Sebastian snapped, yanking his hips away from his counterpart and growling, “You’re taking liberties. It’s not for you to feel him that way.” 

His shadow scowled at him and huffed, shifting on his feet and compelled to obey since he was technically under the true demon’s control. “Stingy,” he accused, sticking his forked tongue out when Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him dangerously, but he gestured dismissively, “Fine, but I’m not just going to be idle, let me borrow his mouth awhile, won’t you?”

“Be polite,” Sebastian replied, begrudgingly giving his consent for his shadow to continue before he took Ciel’s mouth in a feverish and dominating kiss. _Don’t let him get too overzealous,_ he warned inwardly, leaving a trail of hot marks under Ciel’s jaw and along the column of his neck as he turned him to face his reflection.

“You know I don’t mind _overzealous_ , Sebastian,” he crooned, ass grinding into his mate’s eager, straining cock, while his dilated eyes bore into the clone’s. He was a perfect replica, every angle of his lean body, every arrogant, smug mannerism geniusly duplicated; even as close as he and the demon were, he could not have told them apart save for the bond tethering them together. He wet his lips, deeply inhaling the scent of his lovers’ arousal, smoky and spicy at once, squirming pleasantly in their midst. His lips found their way to the doppelganger’s, brushing against them as he mumbled, “Do you want my mouth here, demon?” Ciel’s teeth captured the false Sebastian’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked the soft flesh, the noise of it nearly as obscene as the moan that was swallowed. “Or here?” he asked kissing the corner of the devilish smirk before moving to his neck, brutal in his assault of it, all teeth and hot breath on the graceful column. “Or maybe here?” he sighed tearing the robes at the front along their seams, the rosary beads crashing, bouncing and ricocheting loudly over the floor, as he licked his nipple hard before holding it between his teeth and flicking the tip teasingly. He pulled back, breaking a string of ropey saliva connecting them and continuing to pinch and squeeze the shadow’s sensitized nubs, “Or do you have anything else in mind?” he asked wickedly.

Sebastian released another breathy growl, but didn’t argue further; it was after all his mate’s choice in the end, not that he wasn’t going to be keeping an eye on his shadow. He slid his hands up Ciel’s sides and to his shoulders before caressing them back down his spine, coaxing his mate with firm pressure to bend over some so that he could get a better view for himself of Ciel’s backside. He palmed his hips and the plump cheeks of his rear, squeezing and parting them to thumb at the young man’s hot and twitching entrance. 

The clone smirked toothily at Ciel, cupping his cheek with one hand to keep his gaze as he licked the slick saliva from his own lips with an appreciative hum. He pressed his chest into the pressure of Ciel’s hands as the mortal teased at his nipples and was bent further towards him by his original. “I have a few ideas for what you can do with that lovely little mouth of yours,” He purred as his hand slid around the back of Ciel’s head, tangling, long, slim fingers in the ashy navy hair and quite roughly fisted them in the strands to guide the young man’s mouth exactly where he wanted it.

Ciel smiled as he bent at the waist gladly for his Sebastian, groaning at the insistent palpation of his lover’s thumb against his eager hole, bearing down against it, and looking up at the shadow with heavy-lidded eyes. His hand came up to grip the base of the clone’s thick, straining shaft, when his arms were forced behind his back against his will by an unseen force, fingers threading together, unable to move. _This is hardly a deterrent, love,_ Ciel teased internally as he lowered his lips to the head of the reflection’s pulsing cock. He gave a drawn out, strangled moan at its taste just to goad his mate. He continued, licking the underside, from tip to sac, letting the head run sloppily against his face the closer he got to the base, pleased when he noted the grunt of satisfaction Sebastian’s reflection gave. “Mmn... Demon!” he spoke around the cock after swallowing the head, when the shadow’s fingers wound too tightly in his hair and pulled him deeper, nudging the back of his throat. 

Sebastian’s tail slithered from the folds of his robes and snaked its way over his shoulder, blunted and tapered to prod its way inside his mate as he thumbed the rosy flushed cheeks of Ciel’s rear apart. He watched as it pressed and squirmed its way inside, pupils dilating thickly and licking his lips unconsciously while his cock throbbed with vicious need, further excited by the delicious echo of the young man’s mouth and throat constricting around it, second hand sensation from his shadow. He would have told his doppelganger to back off again as he roughly took Ciel’s mouth, but he could feel his mate’s arousal like thick, sweet honey through his mind; Ciel was not at all opposed to the harsh treatment, it seemed and he could deny him nothing, though Envy seethed under his skin and firmed his own ministrations. He growled ferally in a mix of possessive warning and begrudging pleasure as his shadow began to rock his hips, the thrust of his tail quickly syncing with the heady rhythm.

Ciel’s jaw went slack, and warm ragged breaths bathed the insatiable demon’s cock as his backside was penetrated by his mate’s smooth, blunted tail. Sebastian’s reflection seemed to take it as an invitation to further plunge his arousal down the mortal’s throat; and not wanting to disappoint his spouse, Ciel widened his mouth to accommodate him. He groaned wantonly around the devil’s length, the vibrations coming up from his chest, carrying to the slick bulbous tip as it rubbed against his palate, prodded the inside of his cheeks when the clone’s hips shifted, and caught on his teeth as he bit down lightly when he denied him a full mouth. The more Ciel’s arousal heightened, the more Envy flowed heavily through their bond, pulsing in time with each of Sebastian’s increasingly aggressive tail thrusts. Ciel curled his fingers behind his back where they were pinned, desperation colouring his tone as he pushed back against his mate, greedy hole swallowing every inserted inch, _L-Let me touch you, Sebastian. Let me stroke and pet your… hah… please… I **need** to touch you._

 _Say pretty please my darling and I’ll consider it. You’re ever so lovely when you’re begging,_ came Sebastian’s guttural and breathy reply, his hips rolling against his mate, rutting his cock against and between his thighs as his tail flared just so within the gripping heat of Ciel’s body. His twin growled huskily as the hold he had in the young man’s hair tightened, keeping his head still as his thick cock plundered his delicious little mouth.

 _Please. Please, Seba-Sebastian… pretty please,_ Ciel implored, mind wailing, fingers twitching frantically in search of his mate, _just let… please…_ Delirious tears rolled down his cheek, gathering just under his chin to mingle with the spit that spilled copiously from the sides of his mouth, then dripped between the feet of his demon’s shadow. 

Sebastian ran his tongue along his serrated teeth predatorily and ran a hand up Ciel’s spine. _You become so obedient when you are desperate my darling… Such a pretty, needy little thing,_ he purred huskily, leaning forward to lick the bittersweet sweat from his mate’s spine. He used the same hand that had mapped the same path his tongue was winding moments previous to instead grip his own cock, guiding it where his tail was slowly retreating, the slick and throbbing head taking its place. He rubbed against the greedy little hole as he finally released Ciel’s hands. 

Using his freed hands, Ciel found his balance by pushing against the clone’s hips, sputtering and coughing as he choked on the demonic cock, then gasping for air when he finally came up. “Then reward me for pleasing you, Sebastian. Fuck me. Mmm… Please!” Ciel begged, still bent at the waist, looking over his shoulder as he held onto the shadow’s forearms. “And you,” he ordered panting, turning his attention back to his lover’s smirking reflection, “make yourself useful.” 

“And here I thought my cock was making a rather _useful_ gag myself. How would you have me instead little master?” the doppelganger replied with a coy smirk, looking down on the young man hungrily. His grin broadened as Sebastian finally thrust himself inside the little mortal, forcefully drawing his hips back against his own as he impaled their mate.

Ciel’s back arched masochistically at the intrusion as he let out a broken moan that echoed in the library. Sebastian’s large, warm hands gripped his hips, preventing him from moving; and in the stillness of his body, he felt the harsh throbbing of his mate’s cock from within that coincided with his sharp, ragged breaths. “I’ll have you on the table, legs spread before me,” the small mortal commanded impatiently, nodding towards the table just behind the clone. 

“What a demanding little lover, you are,” the shadow chuckled, stroking his fingers affectionately through the young man’s hair, still smirking toothily. “Not that I’m complaining,” he finished before he backed off, hoisting himself up onto the table with little effort and spreading himself out lazily over its surface. He stretched his arms languidly above his head and batted his lashes at Ciel, his tail tracing against his own torso in a seductively teasing display. 

Sebastian could see his reflection over Ciel’s shoulder and smiled against the young man’s skin as he felt his body pulse around him wantonly, his own ached with a cocktail of possessive arousal and jealousy, knowing his mate’s eyes were on his shadow. Not wanting to be outdone, he drew his hips back slammed forward at the familiar angle to brutally assault his mate’s prostate as he bit into his shoulder just to remind his mate just what he should be focused on.

“Ahh! Fuck, Sebastian!” Ciel cried gripping the furniture before him, his head falling between his shoulders as the demon’s aggressive thrusts had him standing on his toes and sometimes coming off the floor altogether. “Yesss! Right there! More!” The mortal’s hands moved shakily against the smooth wooden surface of the table, sliding onto the doppelganger’s legs, and upwards, pushing the long robe along the way until it lay bunched at his waist. Sebastian gave another particularly strong shove against his prostate and pushed Ciel forward, his face coming inches of the shadow’s tightly-drawn, exposed scrotum, nudging it playfully with his nose before bathing it with hot breath and moving lower. The bond between he and his mate pulsed with barely suppressed ire as he ran a finger teasingly along the soft skin of the perineum and lapped at the clone’s enticing pucker ticklishly with the tip of his tongue. _Stop being jealous, love, I haven't forgotten you, I just thought you’d like this…_ The mortal’s tongue pressed hard against the entrance and as the demon aggressively snapped his hips forward again, so too did Ciel’s eager wet muscle breech his mate.

Sebastian growled low and long under his breath as his shadow’s pleasure echoed through his own body. His grip on Ciel tightened painfully and he rocked his hips in a harsh, but steady rhythm with some effort in order to maintain control of the motions. His reflections hand’s found their way into CIel’s hair once again, tangling in the strands and curling against his scalp as he arched against the table and hugged the young man’s head with his thighs, panting and moaning encouragingly.

 _It’s not that I don’t like it my darling. It’s this damnable envy. Even though he is me, I can’t help but feel possessive,_ Sebastian finally managed to answer, his voice thick and deep with carnal ferality, wings snapping out overhead as he lapped up the winding trails of blood that threaded their way down between his mate’s shoulder blades. _Take him, remind me how I belong to you as much as you belong to me…_

“Mmn…” Ciel pulled back, licking his lips, shivering at the delicious ambroisal flavour of his spouse. He’d not had enough of Sebastian this way, and he so desperately wanted to spend hours savouring and tasting him. _Anything for you, my love,_ he replied, matching the demon’s desire, as he straightened and rocked back against his mate, taking his hand and bringing the lacquered digits to his mouth. He alternated between petting the pads of his mate’s fingers with his tongue and sucking on them brazenly as he reached forward, nails digging into the shadow’s hips and pulled him roughly forward to the edge of the table. He took one of the clone’s legs and put it over his shoulder while his other withdrew the demon’s fingers from his mouth and led them towards the pretty pink ring of the doppelganger's rear. He groaned at the sight of it, of his mate abusing and stretching his reflection’s eager hole, stretching it unnecessarily; this was purely for the mortal’s enjoyment and his lover was humouring him. He leaned forward, eyes rolling back rapturously as his ears picked up a faint squelching sound as Sebastian’s fingers worked the clone and he spat above the shadow’s hole, watching as the spit drooled down over the entrance, grasping his own cock firmly and pumping it languidly. 

“Mmn, you like when I touch myself for you little lover?” the shadow inquired in a strained lilt, rocking his hips against the intrusion of his twin’s fingers and hissing as sharp pleasure ricocheted under his skin, clearly reveling in the performance they were putting on for their mate. Sebastian’s eyes met his over Ciel’s shoulder and he clenched around the invading digits purposefully, smirking as his twin’s brow furrowed and his jaw twitched, obviously holding back voicing his own pleasure as it was shared between them.

“Ahhh, don’t you dare hold back on me, demon,” Ciel growled lecherously at the doppelganger’s clear display of suppressed pleasure, “let me hear you.” He removed Sebastian’s fingers from his clone and aligned himself to enter the devil’s duplicate. Slowly, he pushed himself inside, the hot, hard tip of his arousal being sucked into the shadow’s gripping heat. He frowned, biting his lip as he withdrew and snapped his hips forward again. All the teasing was coming to a head, stirring his desire and heightening his enjoyment. A sound, low and almost feral caught in his throat while he drove into his mate’s twin, _Sebastian, please… I need you,_ he urged his lover as he hitched the shadow’s other leg over his shoulder and took hold of his weeping cock to intensify the Fallen’s reaction. 

Sebastian’s nails dug harshly into Ciel’s hips, drawing blood that smeared against his doppelganger’s thighs and backside luredly and his thrusts in turn forced his mate’s more harshly into his shadow. A deep, feral sound rumbled in his chest as the sensations flooded through him in thick rolling waves, coaxing him eagerly towards his peak. His left hand migrated from Ciel to his shadows thigh, hissing at the strength of his own claws against flesh as he assisted Ciel in holding his growling and whining twin in place.

Ciel’s hand gripped the twin’s cock harshly, pulling it upwards and twisting at the slick, rounded head as he was pounded by his own mate. His own arousal plunged so deeply and violently into the shadow, propelled by Sebastian, that the table on which the doppelganger was spread and wailing moved noisily along the floor in time with their thrusts. He was filling his mate and being filled by him in return and the paradox was such a heady thing that he scarcely made out the fervent knocking at the library door or the familiar voice of his friend behind it over his own moans and the devils’.

“Ciel! Are you okay? You never showed up. You don’t sound okay. Agni’s here, we’re coming in!” Soma yelled in the hall, trying to call out to his friend over the cacophony of obscene noises. He was sure he could hear Ciel in the midst of it, but the growling and demonic sounds coming from within the room all but drowned him out. 

Sebastian snarled viciously, a wave of possessiveness flooding through him. He whipped his head towards the door, narrowing smoldering sanguine eyes dangerously, bearing his teeth and hissing as the knob turned. Sooty shadows lunged towards the door and spread over it, covetously forcing it to remain closed against the intruders. They were not welcome.

He watched the door for long seconds, still moving, and drawn back by a whimper from his lover. He was holding him too tightly and he crooned low and apologetic as he retracted his fingers from Ciel’s skin, soothing away the hurt as he slowed the frantic motion of his hips, filling his mate slowly instead, rocking against the sweet spot inside him with thrilling accuracy and shuddering as an echo of the same pleasure sparked up his spine and made his wings shake with tension.

“J-just go, Soma! I’m almost… Mmnalmostdone!” Ciel’s voice broke, moaning obscenely as Sebastian savagely assaulted his prostate in unhurried, powerful gyrations. His own hand unconsciously waved in the direction of the door, shoving a floor to ceiling bookcase clumsily against it to further prevent the interruption, more out of fear that his mate would eviscerate the less than subtle Soma. The mortal’s body was tingling and drawn taut like a tight wire. His movements became erratic and harsh, until all at once he stopped, a keening sound falling from his lips. He felt the sudden hitch in his body, felt his control slip entirely, and with one last shuddering thrust, he felt himself pulse deep inside the shadow, emptying himself. He pulled out abruptly before he could finish, spilling his seed onto the table and floor and clamped his lips tightly around the twin’s cock, sucking it voraciously as he trembled in his post-orgasmic state, encouraging his lover to find his release as well. 

Both Sebastian and his shadow groaned gutturally, both groping at their mate as Ciel’s mouth and body greedily milked their respective cocks, the lingering sense of his release inside him and over his skin, making them both shiver. Both of them began rocking into Ciel erratically, intent on spending their own pleasure, eager to meet their lover in euphoria. Sebastian’s teeth found purchase in Ciel’s skin again, sharp and possessive, muffled growls washing over his mate’s back as his shadow arched suddenly under the young man, hissing and pulling Ciel’s hair as he filled his mouth with spicy sweet seed. Sebastian wasn’t more than a second behind, thrusting his hips flush with his lover’s and jerkily emptying himself inside the clenching heat, sending his pleasure, possession and devotion through their bond to be sure Ciel hadn’t somehow forgotten how he loved him like no one else could.

Ciel’s throat bobbed in quick successions as he swallowed mouthfuls of the shadow’s seed that was really no different than the addictive, velvety essence of his mate. He straightened, resting his head against Sebastian’s chest, the beat of his heart thundering against the mess of his sweat-drenched hair and threw his arms back and around his lover’s neck, molding his exhausted form contentedly against his demon. _You mean everything to me, you know that don't you, Sebastian? There will only ever be you, my love, no other._

 _I have no doubts my darling. You aren't afraid anymore. Forgive me my envy, I simply couldn't help it. I've a need to covet you even from myself it seems,_ Sebastian's voice returned, fond and vaguely amused by his own actions. He sighed heavily as he pulled away from Ciel, slipping out of him with a lewd squelch. “We should not linger,” he said aloud, crooking a finger at his shadow that flickered and winked out of existence, leaving his mate with the lingering caress of his fingers on his cheek and the ghost of his devilish grin. Sebastian righted his clothing before he reached to assist his lover, fingers soothing the ache of fresh bruises as they whispered over Ciel's skin.

“I’ll make myself available later if you feel the urge to... _covet_ me anew,” Ciel teased, winking impishly over his shoulder at his mate. He was spun gently around to face his lover as sure, practiced fingers fastened his buttons for him. “I have a favour to ask of you,” the small exorcist began, shifting somewhat nervously and avoiding his demon’s still fiery, crimson eyes, “I need you to hide Soma, Agni and Lizzie for me. Take them home to keep them safe until all this blows over.”

Sebastian hummed, gaze flickering from where he rebuttoned Ciel’s shirt to his imploring mismatched eyes. He nodded, speaking as he reached to tenderly readjust the eyepatch that had loosened and fallen down about Ciel’s neck during the course of their lovemaking, “Of course my darling, but where is it you intend to be?” There was a subtle scent beginning to seep into the library, familiar as the sound of scale on wood that accompanied it. The demon made a knowing sound, raising a decidedly suspicious brow, “I suppose it’s safe to assume you were expecting company?”

Ciel flung his arms around Sebastian’s middle, burying himself against him as relief flooded his face and sincere gratitude shone in his visible eye. “Yes. I have some business to attend to with Snake. Is he here?” He looked in the direction of the door that was still barred by the bookshelf that stood askew with its books littering the floor, trying to discern any tell-tale sign that his hybrid friend might be waiting. It’s when he saw the small, adorable form of Donne peek through from behind the shelf that heat made its way to his cheeks; he remembered how his last tryst with the demon had frustrated Satan’s son, “How much do you think he heard? Do you think he’s _alright_?” 

Sebastian chuckled, “I’m sure he’s just fine my darling. If he’s not, I’m quite certain his mate will be willing to assist him,” he said, bending over to collect the tiny serpent from the floor as it approached them, smiling as he set it gingerly on his mate’s shoulder. “He is rather an impatient little thing though, so you might not want to keep him waiting. Do stay out of trouble and try to be home for dinner won’t you? I’m making a pasta dish. If I recall, baked macaroni and cheese was a favourite of yours as a child,” he finished with a fond teasing in his tone.

Ciel leaned in and pulled his mate’s face to his own to kiss Sebastian’s cheek before turning from him and making his way to the door as he ran two fingers down and along the tiny serpent’s head and vertebrae, “Add in a chocolate cake for dessert and yourself in nothing but an apron to serve it and I’ll be home earlier than dinnertime.” His hand went from dismissing the shelf-barrier from the entrance to waving a goodbye as he took his leave with his friend waiting just outside the library, _Love you, dearest._

“In front of your company? How daring,” Sebastian said with false scandal before breathing on the smudged lenses of his glasses and using an edge of his dark robes to clean them off, smiling as his lover retreated,echoing the sentiment in their bond as he felt more than saw the distance growing between them as Ciel left with Snake to do what, he couldn’t say. It didn’t matter because Ciel would return to him; he would come home again, like always.


	37. Asylum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of this chapter: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the smut the last few chapters and that you're all prepared for the drama that's to come in its absence! It's finally starting! The beginning of the END... dun dun dunnnnn... Enjoy!
> 
> Mood music:  
> Sebastian~ [ If You Could Only See by Tonic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sfg6-4mBs6Y&index=137&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)  
> Ciel~ [ Dust It Off by The Do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSiooa1Kym0)

“This! This is what you get… The lot of you are as enamoured as Asmodeus with Christ’s little bastard. It clouds your judgement! You leave me no choice, since you all can’t seem to do what needs to be done,” Belial seethed, pacing back and forth over the marbled onyx floor of Lucifer’s throneroom, narrowing his gaze at the lazily sprawled and unconcerned form as the third prince chuckled.

“Oh put a sock in it Bell. Envy was no great loss. It’ll be all the more humiliating when I destroy Asmodeus,” he said, grinning at his steepled fingers, “Stop your ranting; it’s boring and you’re making Little Bee nervous.”

The teenaged persona of Beelzebub jerked as Lucifer referred to her, startling her out of her anxious thoughts. She didn’t like these odds anymore and it would no doubt be her that her brother would next consume if she continued to follow Lucifer. She didn’t want to die. She shifted from foot to foot and twisted her fingers in the ruffled folds of her skirts. “I don’t like this game. I don’t want to play anymore. I didn’t even want to kill Azzy in the first place! Neither of you cares about our brothers or sisters. Neither of you cares about me! You’ll let Azzy eat me same as the others if it means you get to keep playing. Well I’m not gonna be anyone’s supper! I hope Azzy and the butterfly eat you both!” She burst shrilly, unable to keep quiet anymore, and unwilling to play bait for her brothers any longer. Before either of them could protest, she left, promptly evaporating into a sparkling mist that smelled vaguely like candy floss. 

“Oh of course! Well I can’t say I’m surprised. This is your fault Lucifer. I told you from the beginning, but you never listen. I’m done being patient,” Belial hissed scathingly, throwing his hands in the air wildly before crossing his arms tightly over his chest and tapping his foot in irritation, unable to remain still.

Lucifer chuckled again and shook his head, twirling a lock of dark hair between his long fingers. “I don’t see how the blame falls to me, you’re the one that scared her off. You’re still just sore because Asmodeus chose a mortal over you. Then again, hasn’t he always? Isn’t it amusing how history just repeats itself yet the joke never gets old. The punchline makes it worth the telling if you ask me. You have such a terrible sense of humour Bell, perhaps you’re just pent up, poor thing. Must be quite the blow to be outdone by a mere mortal, even if he does have divine blood.”

Belial snarled and sent glass like shards of ice careening towards the Fallen. Lucifer only laughed again as they fizzled and turned to a harmless mist before they ever reached him. “You go ahead and do things your way Bell and I’ll do them my way and we’ll see who claims victory in the end…”

“So be it,” the redheaded demon agreed venomously, narrowing his eyes at Lucifer suspiciously before he whirled around in a flourish of fabric and aggressively strode out of the throneroom. He ignored the whispers of the gathered shadows as he blew through the doors, spread batlike wings wide and took off as soon as he’d stepped through them.

***

“Emily says you really ought to take more pride in your appearance, Little Lord,” Snake hissed in a high soprano as he walked next to the small mortal who’d emerged from the Vatican Library looking like he’d fought a war and had barely escaped.

“I do,” Ciel answered with a knowing smirk, “it’s just that the clothes conceal what I’m most proud of.” His hand unconsciously ran over his bonding mark at the base of his neck as his more recently healed wounds along his back and hips tingled pleasantly. That his demon claimed him in such a passionate way, left his marks on him so possessively, both honoured and reminded him to whom he belonged. 

The hybrid stopped in his tracks and went rigid, gripping Ciel’s arm and forcing him to halt as well. “You shouldn’t be so flippant about that, Wilde says. We smelled you the moment we came into the building; your essence carried even to the outside, as did you and your mates’ passion.” Snake chastised him a little breathless, hand spasming subtly around the mortal’s wrist. Despite his many preparations prior to coming to find Phantomhive, despite the fact that he’d been fully sated by his own mate, had been given three elixirs to make him more or less immune to Asmodeus’ effects, he still found himself somewhat weakened. And if he had Death on his side to help him, what chance did the average demon or mortal stand? 

He pulled air in through his nose and took a calming breath as he changed the topic to better distract himself from the growing torment that was the physical evidence of the lovers’ coupling, “You _do_ know that Belial has made the Vatican his home away from Hell, don’t you, asks Donne. That his servants have eyes and ears everywhere? He wants to tear you apart for stealing his mate, Ciel… and yet, here you are, fornicating for all to hear in his library…” The little serpent on his friend’s shoulder flicked its tiny pink tongue against the mortal’s ear as Snake spoke. 

“He’s _my_ mate,” Ciel snarled possessively as he yanked his hand from the nephilim's hold, causing his heavy backpack to slide down his arm. He hitched it over his shoulder again and began walking towards the exit, shuddering and wrapping his arms around himself when they reached the outdoors. 

“Yes, I know, says Wordsworth. And your faith in your mate is finally as it should be. Your divinity is strong and I expect exorcising even mid-rank demons should come as child’s play to you now.” Snake caught up to Ciel, this time putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, “It still doesn’t mean you should be careless; here, allow me to help you.” 

“Whaaa?” Ciel was only still for the length of a heartbeat before the hybrid parted his lips ever so slightly to momentarily blow on his hair, drying it and replacing the obvious spicy-sweet scent of his mate’s essence with something a little less potent, something as banal as the fabric softer they’d most likely used when the cleaners had last done his uniform. Expert hands set to work repairing the claps to his suspenders that had been dragging behind him so that his trousers no longer drooped when he walked; and much quicker than what was human, his shirt was removed, turned inside out and refastened correctly so that the buttons actually matched their boutonnières and did not look bunched and lopsided.

“It seems you have the same effect on your partner as he does on you, if the state of your attire is any indication, says Keats.” Snake smiled a little more kindly to the mortal; he'd picked up Asmodeus’ scent on Ciel’s clothes and had no doubt that the Fallen had _tried_ to help in his haste to not keep him waiting. It amused him. He removed the down jacket that he wore simply to keep up appearances in the human world since his own mate had been sure to warm his blood thoroughly before he’d come to retrieve Ciel, and put it over the exorcist’s shoulders to keep him from shivering.

“I should hope so,” Ciel mused out loud, belatedly noticing that he wasn’t nearly as cold as he was minutes ago despite the blustering wind. It went beyond the coat that was placed over his small frame. Snake’s aura, at once protective and friendly, clung to him, warmed and comforted him as they walked. “Where are we meeting your mate?” 

“Just behind St-Peter’s Basilica, at the Teutonic Cemetery, says Webster. It gives us a little distance from our enemies, specifically our Master’s half-sibling; and his mate is powerful enough to cast a haze that will leave us undetected for the time being.”

“Wait. A haze? Undertaker can do that?” It should have come as no surprise to Ciel. Surely a being able to create a soul out of a list of ingredients should be able to move undetected even from the supernatural world. 

“Stronger beings can; I’ve no doubt Lucifer can, Belial as well. I’m sure Asmodeus can do it as well, it’s probably how he’s hidden his garden so well, says Emily.” 

“Oh! Speaking of that,” Ciel pulled his backpack to his front awkwardly, trying not to knock off the heavy jacket. Once successful, he unzipped it and pushed the large leather-bound book Soma had been reading aside and removed a long, rectangular box from its depths. “Listen, I’m shit at this kind of stuff, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, especially when things weren’t going so well with Sebastian... I got you these.” He handed the box to Snake, re-zipped his backpack and kept walking alongside the hybrid. He flushed scarlet, throwing sideways glances at his friend as the halfling fumbled with the tape he’d adhered to the box to keep it shut. Before leaving Eden, he’d walked with Poe among the gardens and he’d been reminded of his mother’s words about the roses Asmodeus had kept hidden from the world. Since he’d struggled with how to repay his friend for his loyalty, it’d seemed the perfect gift; but now, with the silence heavy between them, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Snake stopped at the iron-wrought gates of the infamous cemetery upon finally opening the box. His serpents had all clambered over his shoulders to get a peek at what the small mortal could have possibly offered a being such as their companion as thanks. They weren’t disappointed by the potent scent of myrrh and musk that wafted from the box or by their master’s widened eyes and rapid pulse. “How did you get these?”

“Stole them from my mate’s garden while he was sleeping,” Ciel answered sheepishly, “You forget that I’m one hell of a thief. Besides, bonded as we are now, we share in our possessions.” 

“Yes, I would agree with your last statement. This _soul_ my mate will create for you is definitely one worth sharing between the two of you.” 

“Ah, righ’ on time poppit. No trouble finding th’ lil phantom as expected,” Undertaker’s lilting and husky tone sounded, interrupting what Ciel might have responded as he stepped out from the shadows of a large Cypress tree. He grinned and tipped his crooked top hat in greeting as he approached the pair, reaching out to caress Snake’s scaled cheek affectionately. “Whatta thoughtful gift. S’been such a long time since I’ve seen such roses. I tried ta grow ‘em meself once, but they jus’ don’ bloom outside ‘is garden, y’see. Ther ‘is creation, so I s’pose t’only makes sense… Then again, I’ve a feeling y’ave no trouble makin’ ‘em bloom do ya?” he continued, eyeing the silver blue roses his mate had been gifted from the young mortal before his honeyed emerald gaze shifted to Ciel. How coincidental that he should have brought the very blooms that Maltheal had requested as payment from Ciel’s mate when last they’d met; how amusing…

Snake leaned into his mate’s touch, giving Goethe the opportunity to slither from his shoulders, raising the front part of its lithe body then flopping over and down onto his mate’s. The serpent extended its tongue, flicking it appreciatively against the ancient, then disappeared from view into Maltheal’s resplendent silver strands. The hybrid secured the roses in his hands, coveting them, kissing the petals and whispering to them as though he were singing them a lullabye, then held them before his firm belly. 

“I don’t know about making them bloom,” Ciel answered Undertaker after having given the couple their time, not wanting to interrupt their reunion, “But I _do_ have something for you as well.” He walked over to a weathered angel statue, using its outstretched arms as a hook for his bookbag and rummaged through for Poe’s blue silk pouch and his athame. “Here’s two-thirds of the ingredients you required for our transaction; I didn’t know how you wanted the uh… plasma… fresh or canned or how much you required...” he said, handing the first item over to the god, and shuddering at the thought of having to bleed when not under Sebastian’s influence. 

Maltheal accepted the pouch, peering inside with interest, inspecting the ingredients held within it. He chuckled as Ciel shuddered and reached into his long coat with his unoccupied hand, retrieving a long, corked crystal vial and offering it vaguely towards the young man. “Fill ‘er up wit th’good stuff an’ tha’ should ‘bout do it,” he prompted as he counted the pearled tears nestled in the pouch with the glowing grace. Rather an impressive number really… “No point in hesitatin’ now. Might as well git on with it. Iff’n ya be feelin’ a tad squeamish ‘bout bleedin’ yerself, m’sure Poppit will give ya an ‘and,” he finished, snapping his fingers in a gesture for the mortal to pick up the pace. He would have liked to take his time with it, but there just wasn’t enough as it was. Everything had to be perfect and he didn’t have very many extra minutes to spare.

“Keep your pants on… it’s fine, I can do it myself,” Ciel retorted, voice squeaking when he took the vial from the strange being then turned around for some privacy. He removed the stopper with his teeth and held it between them as he put the delicate vial between his thighs. He closed his eyes, slicing his right palm, whimpering as he cut deeply into his skin to make sure he’d bleed enough to _fill ‘er up_. Crimson fluid beaded to the surface at first, then gushed from the gash, overflowing his cupped hand and spilled onto the cemetery floor in time with the clatter of his athame against a well-worn gravemarker. With his free, uninjured, but shaking hand, he held the glass container under the free-flowing liquid, filling it in a matter of seconds. When he failed to steady his bleeding hand long enough to put the cork back in, he shot his friend a pleading look and handed both the vial and stopper to him. 

“O-okay, s-so when should I come retrieve the… the...” Ciel stuttered, nodding towards the completed recipe Undertaker now had in his possession. He couldn’t bring himself to speak the word out loud. A _soul_. A _soul_ fit for a _demon_. No matter how desperate he was for it, how he hoped it might bring about his lover’s redemption as was promised in their contract, and later when he realized he fiercely wanted to share his lifetime with Sebastian, he still couldn’t bring himself to even utter the word. There was a certain _wrongness_ about it, something unnatural about creating a vital lifeforce in this way. No, he couldn’t think of it in that manner, not when it was a product of both he and his mate. It wasn’t _wrong_ , just _unconventional_ ; no different than the likelihood of their love, that he should find Asmodeus after millennia apart. 

Undertaker held the vial up to the light, watching the blood shift within the crystal for a moment before he handed it over to Goethe to hold for him while he removed the Angel’s Grace from the pouch, rubbing a thumb over its center until it warmed and became malleable under his touch. “Ya can ‘ave it now. M’afraid we don’ ‘ave a whole lotta time left ta be dallying iff’n yer gonna be able ta provide me th’ required payment,” he replied as his thumbnail created a divot in the glowing grace, hollowing it out so that it could be filled. He traded it with the serpent on his shoulders for the vial, uncorked it and plucked a tear from within the silken pouch still dangling from his smooth, spindly pale fingers. He crushed it between his forefinger and thumb, creating a fine, pearly dust that he added to the vial of blood. He did it twice more before he pricked his own finger, adding a single almost violet drop of his own blood. He then recorked the vial and shook it rather violently for a long moment. Finally he took the grace back from Goethe and proceeded to pour the now shimmering liquid inside the hollowed orb, turning it from angelic blue to a warm and vaguely pulsing burgundy as he rolled it between his palms to reshape it back to its original form as whispers sounded from nowhere around him in a language that was older than any dialect spoken or written by angel, man or devil.

“Tha’ should jus’ ‘bout do… it,” he said, gingerly holding the new soul in the palm of his left hand, “Now open up an’ say aww, lil phantom.”

Ciel rubbed his palms together, feeding divine sparks from one hand to the other, cauterizing the wound and wincing slightly as he did so. He was positively mesmerized by what Undertaker was doing, watching as he handled the grace so delicate, but assuredly, his touch not unlike the one used to revive children born too soon for this world. He wondered if supernatural beings ever suffered such a loss, and if, like most of his mate’s reactions, they were fathomless, more extreme and their grief inconsolable. He narrowed his eyes once the grace had taken its original form, though this time pulsing; no, beating a rhythm of pure bliss as though it were truly happy to be alive. A faint thrumming could be heard over whispered echoes, like hummingbird wings, only faster, while its shape undulated in its creator’s palm. 

He was so lost in his own marveling of this soul’s creation that he almost missed Undertaker’s bizarre words. “What?” he asked, sure he’d misunderstood. He took a step back regardless, his hands both in the air before him, “But it’s alive! I mean, I’ve done raw food… I love sushi, for instance, but it’s never been _alive_ when I’ve _ingested_ it.” He was rambling as he kept taking long steps back until his foot caught on an overgrown root and he found himself on his rear. “Besides, it’s not _for me_ , remember? I have one. This one’s for Sebastian. Shouldn’t he be eating it?”

Undertaker clicked his tongue and waggled a finger at Ciel, “Now now, we both know ya’ve ‘ad _livelier_ things than this sweet lil darling insidea ya,” he said teasingly, “Quit yer bellyachin’ an’ swallow it.” He stepped closer to Ciel, pressing the warm and throbbing orb to the mortal’s lips. “Souls needta be kept warm an’ only creatures tha’ was born wit souls demselves can be holdin’ ‘em safely inside ‘em. ‘Ow else ya ‘spect ta get it ta yer mate in th’ first place? T’is an act ‘o the divine ta create one an’ another ta bring dem ta life. Tiny miracles souls are, ev’ry single one ‘o ‘em, unique like snowflakes an’ damn near impossible ta recreate witout th’ perfect ingredients. Iff’n ya be wantin’ it, ya’ll be swallowin’ it. Even iff’n s’not yers, it might as well be. It’s too precious to be treatin’ it carelessly, donchya think?”

Ciel wanted to nod, agreeing with what the god was saying, but as close to his mouth as was the small glowing sphere, he was afraid he would somehow damage it by doing so. His lips trembled against it, partly out of nervousness, partly out of fear. What would it feel like to consume a soul? Would it make him more demonic? Would it feed off his own; worse still, if he hesitated any longer, would Undertaker deny him to opportunity to gift it to his mate?

Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue as Snake’s mate tipped the soul onto it, then gently pushed his chin up with one long, slender finger so that his mouth shut. He felt it pulse against his tongue and swallowed it as delicately as he could, taking care not to graze it with his teeth. It slid effortlessly down his throat, eagerly warming a path as it descended to its destination, then gradually filled his stomach with familiar comfort as it settled itself. “Ooph, I feel so full…” Ciel said getting to his feet with the help of his friend, rubbing his belly gingerly with his free hand, “How is that even possible? It was so small… Wait, how am I supposed to give it to Sebastian?”

“A soul be a ‘eavy burden, two be ‘eavier. As fer ‘ow ya give it o’er ta yer mate, ‘ow else but mouth ta mouth?” Undertaker said with a sly glint in his honeyed green eyes and two fingers pressed to his lips before he pressed them to Ciel's with a cheeky wink and a toothy grin. 

Ciel’s brows knit together as he wet his lips and pressed them together; he couldn’t pinpoint the taste, though it was of a pleasing fresh dewy flavour. He returned the ancient being’s smile, hitched his bag back over his shoulder and turned in the direction of the entrance gate. It took every bit of willpower he had to not take off at a sprint to crash lips first into his mate or to summon the demon to him immediately to deliver his precious cargo. As his hand reached the frosty iron bar, he looked over his shoulder at the couple, “Oh! About the payment…” 

Undertaker cocked his head, a lopsided grin tilting his lips and a secretive mischief in his gaze as he looked back at the young man. “Ay, ‘bout the payment…” he said with a chuckle, “Ya’ve a wee bit ‘o time still ‘fore I come ta collect. I’d say enjoy it, but I don’ believe ya will, so instead I’ll leave ya with luck, lil phantom. Give me regards ta me nephew if ya would. We’ll be seein’ ya.” And he winked again and tipped his hat before he turned away, lazily curling an arm around Snake’s waist and leaning in for a conversation that Ciel couldn’t and didn’t care to make out.

***

Sebastian had managed to collect Ciel’s friends without to much difficulty, ignoring the suspicious scrutiny he received and the awkward formalities. It was quite clear the other mortals had some idea of his true identity, but they were also grossly misinformed about just _who_ he was now. It hardly mattered though; his lover had tasked him with keeping his rather odd little herd of humans safe. And he would.

He had offered to retrieve Miss Elizabeth, but Soma had vehemently assured him it was better he didn’t. It was fine, he supposed, as long as she was coming. He took the time while awaiting her arrival to prepare the promised casserole and cake. As the scents mingled warmly through the apartment, he began to reinforce the wards around Ciel’s apartment, aware of the other two guests shadowing him as he moved around the flat, but unconcerned, sometimes smiling or even chuckling to himself when he came across a particularly sloppy or peculiarly worded bit of script. His lover was certainly creative… 

He ended his intent ward strengthening back in the main area and entrance while Agni and Soma appeared to be inconspicuously inspecting the broom closet. He let out an inaudible sigh and shook his head vaguely. Such naive creatures… He smelled her before she had even come down the hall, the distinct airy scent of honeysuckle and wild lavender. Miss Elizabeth had arrived at last... 

The smell of a home-cooked meal and chocolate cake that wafted under the door to the apartment address she’d been texted by Soma only further irritated Lizzie as she stood just out in the hall. She had spent a little over a month crying her eyes out over the presumed death of her cousin and here he was, enjoying some kind of honeymoon-esque domesticity with Sebastian. At least if he’d been hurt, or incapacitated, even kidnapped, she could give herself a reason to gather him in her arms and tell him how happy she was he was safe. Of course, she knew deep down that she had not wanted him harmed, that this was certainly a better alternative, but it did nothing to quell the absolute rage and indignation she felt towards the pair of them for letting everyone believe they were gone. True, Sebastian didn’t owe her a thing, but without her encouragement and persistence, Ciel might not have pursued the relationship after their last falling out. Her cousin though, was a whole other story and she was going to let him know exactly how much of a selfish, hurtful prat he’d been for letting them all think he’d perished alongside his mother. She didn’t bother with knocking; instead, she came in like a storm, cornflower blue eyes narrowing furiously as she sought a mop of long navy-grey hair. When she couldn’t find him, she turned on her cousin’s dark-haired lover, nostrils flaring and spat her words contemptuously at him, “Where the fuck is Ciel?”

“Always a _pleasure_ Miss Elizabeth,” Sebastian greeted with a sharp, tight-lipped smile and narrowed his eyes at the young woman. “I’m afraid Ciel had to run an errand, but he’s likely to be back shortly. _Do_ make yourself comfortable while you wait, won’t you? Would you like some refreshments?” he offered, politely unimpressed. 

“Shove your refreshments up your arse, Sebastian,” Lizzie shrieked, moving into the tall male’s personal space, completely unmoved by the clear display of passive-aggressiveness and poking his chest angrily with her finger. “What the hell have you done to him? He would never have pulled any of this shit before he met you; and here I urged him to give you a chance after you practically mauled him!” 

“I can think of much more _refreshing_ things to shove up my arse,” he said under his breath, though purposely audible and he rolled his eyes in exasperation; he really had so little patience at the moment. Likely the bitter remnants of envy, he surmised. “I assure you, I’ve done nothing to him that he has not demanded in one form or another. How naive of you to think I have _any_ dominion over him. And you’ve quite obviously been grossly misinformed about the type of person Ciel is, the type of person he has _always_ been; it’s in his blood, you see. He, like all of you humans has two faces, one that you and all others see and the one that he only shows to me...” he paused for a long moment, eyes flickering to inhuman slits, glittering beneath the lazy press of long raven lashes as he continued, “I also have two faces Miss Elizabeth; you’d do well to word your wild accusations more carefully. I don’t imagine you’d much appreciate my other face as much as your cousin does.”

“Just because you’ve had your dick up his ass doesn’t mean you know him better than I do, Sebastian; you only know him _differently_.” Lizzie fought against the subtle shudder that ran the length of her spine upon noticing the man’s less-than-human glare. “I’m not about to get into a pissing contest with you, so mind _your tone_ with _me_. If what you say is true, and that Ciel is legitimately not under _your_ command, you know as well as I do that he wouldn’t at all be pleased to know that you’ve threatened me,” she responded, her chin coming up defiantly as she stood before the much larger man. Despite being upset with Ciel, she loved him and would protect him fiercely no matter the associated risks. “Other than my coming in upset, you have _zero_ justification for being angry with me. Ciel is like my brother, I’m the only family he has now and you both had me believe he was dead. Tell me, Sebastian, in what kind of state would you be if someone took Ciel away from you? If you believed him to be dead?” she asked, raising a thinly-shaped brow in challenge. 

Sebastian chuckled, cocking a hip lazily and folding one arm around his middle as he rested his angular chin on the loosely fisted hand of the other. He was aware of Ciel’s other two guests as the taller, Agni, if memory served, uncomfortably ushered the younger and furiously protesting man down the hallway, trying to distract him by suggesting they just go have a look at Ciel’s collection in the other room. Though Sebastian was hardly ashamed or embarrassed by the conversation he and Ciel’s cousin were having, he found that the respectful nature of the act was appreciated; even knowing _what_ he was, Agni thought he deserved privacy while discussing such matters. Humans were such interesting and odd creatures, truly. In all the many many years he’d existed and observed them, they still found ways to surprise him.

“Well yes, I know him in ways you can’t even _imagine_ so there’s really no competition to be had. And he may scold me, but he would be hiding a smile. He trusts me,” he replied, an amused lilt to his tone, thinking of his mate, his gaze going a bit distant as his attention was inevitably drawn to the warmth of elation and contentment seeping through their bond from Ciel. A vague smile plucked at his lips before he blinked, the young woman’s finishing words belatedly filtering through his consciousness. 

“The world would taste my suffering if he were to be stolen from me, but I will protect him at all costs. I do understand how you must feel… Betrayed and confused, angry and relieved, aren’t you?” he responded after a breathless second, shifting his weight minutely, his skin feeling oddly itchy with familiarity, like what the mortals called deja vu.

Lizzie gave him a curt nod, relaxing enough so that tears pricked at her eyes and she tilted her head back, blinking them reflexively to avoid crying in front of Ciel’s lover. Her voice was thick when she addressed Sebastian again, “I'm tired of being lied to; Soma told me that you're to take us somewhere to keep us safe, but safe from what? Will Ciel be safe? Will you?” Truth be told, she didn't know the frightening crimson-eyed man well enough to care for his well-being, but she knew in her gut that should something happen to him, chances were that Ciel would not recover. “Ciel won't tell me, he'll try to protect me and I don't want to be protected in that way. I just keep conjuring up worst case scenarios.”

“Ciel has tasked me with transporting you to more, shall we say _impregnable_ lodgings. You should count yourselves blessed; you’ll be the first humans aside Ciel that have been invited to my garden in a long long while. You will certainly be safe there, and Ciel will be safe with me,” the Fallen affirmed, inclining his head ever so slightly, watching the young woman with feline eyes, “As for what from, why all the dark things that lurk in the shadows and go bump in the night, Miss Elizabeth...” He leaned in vaguely, “All the things your parents told you were only nightmares and fairy tale villains, but you knew that didn’t you? You never did strike me as an idiot, naive and idealistic, and too bloody affectionate with my mate certainly, but not stupid. You’ve always suspected your family were not just art dealers and so they’re not. You saw what you wanted to see and believed what you wanted to believe of Ciel, of your family, of me. You’ve just had such a dreadful scare because you always knew there was something _different_ about your cousin, though I imagine, he hid it well after he came to live with you…” 

As Sebastian was finishing telling Lizzie truths it seemed she’d been keeping even from herself, Poe came shuffling down the hall from Ciel’s bedroom, wearing one of the young man’s silk pajama shirts and rubbing one scarlet eye blearily. “What’s going on? Is the mistress back yet? I’m hungry…” the child complained before a wide yawn took his mouth and he pressed a fist to it only to drop it seconds later upon seeing Elizabeth face to face in this familiar form. He remembered her, though the last time he’d met her like this, she’d been only a little girl. 

“Eddie?” Lizzie gasped, putting a hand to her mouth and taking a few steps back until her legs hit the sofa and she fell onto it. She squinted to better take in the little boy; it was definitely him, with his scarlet eyes, and sleek black hair. The little voice was unmistakably his as well, even down to the chime-like quality to his complaint. She looked from him to the man then back to the small child again. Side by side their resemblance was uncanny, they were certainly related. But no, Sebastian wasn’t human; he had as much as confirmed that when he had informed her of the necessary details. That at least explained why her childhood friend hadn’t aged since she’d last seen him. She opened her arms tentatively, wanting to feel him and smell the chamomile-clove scent that had always clung to him to make sure he was real. 

“Sebastian, Ciel didn’t have to hide anything. He didn’t seem to remember anything, like he was an empty shell when he came to us at eight. He saw therapist after therapist, but nobody knew what was wrong. All they kept saying was that he was _grieving_ , that he’d suffered a terrible loss, but they couldn't pinpoint what that _loss_ was,” she rambled on nervously, looking at Eddie rather than her cousin’s mate, afraid it’d been too long for him to remember her. She lowered her arms awkwardly and shifted uncomfortably where she sat, “It was you wasn’t it? This has to do with Uncle Vincent, right?”

Poe sucked on his bottom lip a moment before he took tentative steps forward to embrace the young woman, sniffing at the air curiously as if he was making certain it was truly her, though he knew it was. He stumbled the last steps and toppled into her, small hands clinging to her clothing, voice muffled against her shoulder, “Mistress calls me Poe now…”

Sebastian watched with an unfocused gaze as his familiar reacquainted himself with the girl, sifting through the bitter memories of the time in question. He growled deep in his chest, the sound both feral and mournful and turned his head to the side, jaw twitching as his sharp teeth ground together. “You aren’t wrong on either assumption. Vincent was cruel in his way of loving his son. Ciel became afraid of me, for what I had done to him by his father’s order. Vincent had me pry his memories of me out but I only hid them. I am not the villain; he never did grasp that. Do you think Ciel was better off for his loss?” he said finally, his voice hoarse and more strained than he’d have preferred, but he did not look away from Elizabeth as he spoke. Surely she would know best; she’d known Ciel during the course of his life with and without Sebastian. He did not ask because he was concerned either way; Ciel was his mate now and it was all that truly mattered. But he asked because he knew that it would devastate his lover if Lizzie disapproved.

Lizzie nuzzled the top of Poe’s head affectionately, unconsciously cooing a long-forgotten melody to him under her breath. She’d hitched him up onto her lap, rocking his small form from side to side as his fingers traced the small kittens on her silk scarf, when Sebastian’s question registered in her mind. “Of course he wasn’t better off! You lost Ciel that day, and I lost my best friend. I still loved him of course, but he was never the same. It’s like he had two settings: angry-bitter Ciel or cynical-jaded Ciel. The fact that he has Soma as a friend speaks more to the fact that Soma can find the good in anyone more than Ciel having had a winning personality in a school where he had no desire to be. You know how he gets when he’s not particularly pleased with something.” She pulled a face that was quite similar to her cousin’s, eyebrows pulled down and drawn together, lips puckered, chin high. It was more adorable than anything else, and she’d told him as much on countless occasions. “I know you don’t care about my opinion on your relationship either way, Sebastian, but I can’t go back to seeing him that way, devoid of any positive emotion, that is. So if you can promise me that you’ll do your best to protect his happiness, I’ll… I’ll stand by you.” 

“I’ve no inclination to do otherwise, Miss Elizabeth. Your support matters a great deal to him and so it matters to me,” Sebastian answered, watching Poe cuddling with the young woman comfortably and staring back at him with faux innocence. He shook his head inwardly, amused by the display. His familiar took his childlike role too seriously, but Sebastian supposed, he’d never really demanded otherwise. It was just rather comedic that the “child” was millenia old, yet the humans doted on and fawned over him; the little imp just soaked it right up… _Spoiled creature, just like his mistress,_ he thought as the familiar broke contact with him and instead snuggled his face in Lizzie’s hair affectionately, beaming up at her. He seemed to be rather fond of her for reasons Sebastian likely wouldn’t understand even if he asked Poe to explain, not that it mattered.

He was about to speak further when a warm thrill washed through the bond he shared with Ciel, alerting him that his mate was close. “Ciel is home,” he said abruptly, his voice softened when he said the young man’s name, making clear his pleasure in that his mate had returned safely and without further explanation or excuse, he slipped out of the apartment to greet his lover in the hall.


	38. Fallacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: Don't count your chickens before they hatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 38! Thanks to those of you who have stuck around since the beginning, for those of you who joined us in our story later and for those who have newly binged this fic. We continue to appreciate all your love and support as this last story arc gets underway. We hope you'll enjoy it! 
> 
> Toot!Toot! Here comes the angst train... Alllllll aboooooard! :P
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Narcoleptic by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lugOWxbVoMc&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=134)  
> Ciel~ [Over My Shoulder by Mika](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgjO9mmF5N4)
> 
> And just as a little something extra to make up for the angst and as part of my halloween art this year, check out this pic of Seb, Ciel and Poe in their costumes!  
> [ Divine Halloween #1](http://i311.photobucket.com/albums/kk454/XanderBradeshaw/Sebaciel%20arts%20by%20me/divine%20halloween%20colour.jpeg_zps5nukfrmz.jpeg)

It shouldn’t have taken Ciel so long to get back to his flat in Rome; in fact with traffic being what it was at dinnertime, he had thought he might arrive sooner by foot than he would have by cab. What he hadn’t accounted for was the intermittent breaks he had to take along dry park benches to catch his breath, the slight cramping in his side that forced him to alter his pace or the two instances he had to pop into Italian bakeries to sate his cravings for cannoli the first time and an espresso the second. 

Regardless, the inconveniences hadn’t quashed his jubilance and eagerness to reach his mate in the least. He’d barely spared a second’s thought to Undertaker’s ominous words; how could he when his head was filled with all the things he thought Sebastian might say? His lover would no doubt be pleased, think him even more precious and cunning than before. Ciel pictured them growing old together, of seeing Sebastian’s hair turn silver with age, his eyes crinkling with fine lines when he grinned. Or perhaps the soul would redeem the demon right away, making him angelic once again; they could return as they were in their past life, except that he would now share in his bonded’s immortality. Obviously he would have to tell Sebastian about their past, or perhaps he would regain his own memories once his grace was returned to him. Either way, Ciel was certain he could deliver on Undertaker’s happy ending. 

He finally came to the front steps of the residence he owned in Rome, climbing them laboriously, prying the door open and doubling over, hands on his thighs as he sucked in air between his teeth. The mortal heard quiet feet speed over to him and looked up smiling widely, face flushed and jacket half discarded due to the onslaught of heat that rushed through his body. 

Sebastian approached his mate without hesitation, intending to warn him about his guests, but he came up short as he got to Ciel. There was a scent on him, familiar, yet not and he was struck by that same feeling of premonition again. He licked his lips, practically tasting the second essence that resided in his mate. And he knew what it was, but could not seem to remember to whom it belonged, for it was definitely meant for someone, someone familiar, someone precious; he just couldn’t put his finger on who. “Ciel… What did you do?” he asked slowly, confusion swimming behind his eyes, uncertain and suspicious of what reasons Ciel could possibly have for housing a second soul nestled aside his own. 

“I did it… for you… love,” Ciel panted, chest still heaving as he straightened much too quickly and was forced to fist handfuls of Sebastian’s sweater. The momentary lapse in balance sent him careening into his mate, pushing the demon against the wall. Strong arms wrapped around him, securing him in place and the exhilaration emanating from the exorcist flooded their bond, forcing itself upon the Fallen in potent, powerful waves. It seemed that both his past life and his current life were finally converging, as though he’d been waiting for this moment since he’d learned of the Phantomhive Curse. Devotion, adoration and reverence replaced exhaustion as he got onto his toes and curled the fingers of his right hand at the back of Sebastian’s head, tangling them in his sleek, midnight locks and guided his face downwards so that their lips almost touched. “I love you, Sebastian. I’d do anything for you,” Ciel whispered huskily before capturing the demon’s mouth, bruising with the force of his passion. 

_For me?_ Sebastian echoed through their bond as he parted his lips to accommodate his mate’s forceful kiss. He did not understand. Surely his lover did not mean to have him devour such a precious gift. Though he could appreciate the concept if that were the case. He could feel Ciel trying to impress it upon him, offering it to him so eagerly, but the imagery that flickered in their bond confused him further. _I don’t understand my darling… Such a thing is…_

_...a gift, made just for **you**. I promised you redemption, love; here it is…_ Ciel intonated desperately as he breathed into his mate. Surely the demon could sense his urgency and sincerity, his desire to bestow his life’s work upon his mate. The mortal’s tongue stroked and mingled with the Fallen’s forked one, coaxing it deeper into himself as he sucked and teased it with his own. _Taste it, you know you're curious, you know it’s familiar. It belongs to you. It's part you, part me. Please take it, Sebastian, it's so heavy..._ Ciel couldn't understand the devil’s hesitation; he also couldn't shake off the feeling that the second soul was rooting itself inside him as though it had its own desire to stay put.

The demon looked a mix between endeared and perplexed by his lover's response, pulling away from the desperately seeking kiss. “Would that I could love, but only those born with a soul are able to bare them. It would only become corrupt and decay inside me unless you'd have me devour it. That would seem such a waste after such a naive but sweet gesture. A soul is not enough to redeem me my darling, but I truly appreciate the thought,” he explained, patient and hoping he was not somehow offending his little mate. He could feel the hopefulness in Ciel and he could feel the falter in it as he refused him. 

If only gaining a soul were so simple, if only the road to redemption required that sort of gain. Angels and devils alike could harbour no souls, were not made to have their own. Why else would they seek to covet and consume them when they could? And he did not require one for himself when his bonded had offered to share his own, nor was he particularly hungry, well-fed as his mate kept him, not that he _wanted_ to eat it. Quite the opposite in fact; the idea of devouring the soul that, as Ciel had said, felt like a part of him made his insides roll; it was not meant to be his, not in that way and not in the one Ciel had hoped.

“You… you don't _want_ it? You won't even _try_?” Ciel asked, his face crumpling under the bitter disappointment and rejection he felt despite the fact that it was not present in their bond. He drew away from Sebastian, shrugging from the demon’s hold, “But this one’s _special_. Nobody’s ever had a soul like this before. It won't become ugly or corrupt, it’s… it’s ours,” he babbled, his words becoming feebler with every one he spoke until he was sure he was talking only to himself. His hand absentmindedly brushed along his belly and the swell of his sudden rejection gave way to chagrined humiliation. He looked away, bowing his head to avert his mate’s eyes, purposefully letting his long fringe cover some of the embarrassment he knew had begun to colour his face. In his naiveté, he’d failed to understand his mate’s true nature; Sebastian must think him an absolute fool. How could he possibly be worthy of sharing Asmodeus’ immortality when he couldn’t even grasp the very basics of pneumatology?

When his back found the wall across from his mate, he looked up again, plastering a false smile on his face and playing up the whole incident as though it were comical instead. He hoped the effort he was exerting to keep himself from shedding embarrassed tears wasn’t overwhelming his effort to hide his shame and inadequacy through their bond. He needed it concealed from his mate; after all the progress they’d made, the last thing he wanted to do was burden him with his ignorance. “Right! Of course… Um… I was just kidding,” he laughed awkwardly, “It was just something Soma and I were trying out. I… I think I need to uh… I need to slip out a moment…” he finished lamely, looking towards the entrance to the building and hitching Snake’s jacket back on. 

Sebastian’s brows furrowed, watching the expressions shifting on his lover’s face, concerned by the muted brush of the attached emotions through their bond. It was hard to follow and so vague like Ciel was intentionally clouding it. He did not understand the abrupt change in his mood. “Ciel... Hold onto it for me, won’t you? Don’t lose it or throw it away. Just... Until I find a more suitable place to keep it,” he implored as, red-faced, Ciel turned away from him to flee. He did not want his mate to rashly discard the precious thing he’d had made for him. Sebastian was flattered that his mate had went to such lengths, even if they were in vain.

His lover was embarrassed, of that much he was certain; he could smell it though the young man was trying desperately to hide and excuse it. He did not argue though he knew Ciel was lying. Ciel wanted space to work through his disappointment and he could grasp that and so he did not stop him from leaving, but he was sure to give him a proper farewell before his lover made his escape. He swooped in on him from behind, hugging him tightly and pressing his lips to the crown of the mortal’s head, murmuring into the strands before he let him go, “Dinner won’t be long, just long enough to take your guests somewhere safe. I’ll be patient, but don’t stay away too long.” 

He felt eyes on his back and glanced over his shoulder to find the matching gaze of his familiar peeking around the doorframe and traded a look with him. Ciel would not be alone even though he needed time; Poe would watch over him as he had so many times in his master’s stead.

_I’m sorry,_ Ciel apologized morosely. He wondered if Sebastian even picked up on the deep-seated regret the mortal harboured for a host of things he couldn't put into words at the moment, flustered as he was; for this gaff, for needing some time away to work through his disappointment, for asking his mate to keep his friends safe and even to make him dinner. How could he ask so much when he had absolutely nothing to offer in exchange but a foolishly failed attempt at salvaging Sebastian’s former grace, especially when he felt somewhat responsible for having taken it away in the first place. Given the story his mother told him in the old church on the night of his birthday, there could be no denying that he shouldered part of the blame for his lover’s demise. _I'm sorry,_ he repeated, but with more fervour this time, kissing the demon’s contracted hand softly before he let it fall. He kept his hand outstretched behind him, depositing his backpack against the wall then shivered as he pushed the door to the apartment building open, “Come on, Poe, I know you’re there you little sneak…” he said, his voice still strained but more playful with the devil’s familiar, “I'll take you to the park before dinner.”

There was no need for an apology; Ciel had no reason to be sorry, but Sebastian did not say so, simply impressing the content and comforted feeling through their bond. He was hoping to convey that he was not at all disappointed, not quite understanding what his mate was feeling or why, but wanting to insure that Ciel knew Sebastian did not fault him. And he let him go, watching as his familiar took quick, clumsy steps to catch up to Ciel and grasped his offered hand without hesitation, meeting Sebastian’s eyes for just a moment over his shoulder before the door closed behind them.

***

Poe’s fingers were warm tucked into Ciel’s chilly hand as he kept pace with the young man, not at all disturbed by the chill of the season. He was still wearing Ciel’s shirt, though it was tucked messily into a pair of dark blue checkered trousers and he had unlaced black boots on his feet. He looked up at Ciel after they’d walked a block in silence. “You didn’t need to say sorry. Master was really happy, you know… Even though he can’t have a soul like that,” he said, breaking it because he thought Ciel looked like he wanted to talk too, but he was holding back for his sake… As if he were really a child… As if _he_ needed protecting.

Ciel pursed his lips, squeezing Poe’s hand in response to his comforting words, but said none of his own. Instead, he scooped up the little thing, sitting him on his hip and squeezed him once more if not only for the heat he provided against the chill that had gradually become glacial as they walked further from his residence. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Poe,” the mortal told the familiar, finally releasing the tight hold he had on his anxiety and letting it wash over him, “I went to Undertaker to make this soul for Sebastian, right? And all I had to do to pay him back for his work was to guarantee him a _happy ending_. Your master doesn’t want anything to do with it, told me to keep it for him for the time being; so how am I supposed to pay him back now? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame Sebastian, I’m the absolute moron for thinking that this would somehow uphold my end of the contract with him, ” Ciel sighed, shivering as he put the little boy onto one of the swings and walked behind him to push his back gently, “I mean fuck… pardon my french… but what do you think _Death_ does to you when you can’t keep your end of the deal?” 

Poe’s brows pinched together as he began making connections he hadn’t before. Ciel didn’t know, hadn’t realized what the soul was, _who_ it was meant for or that Undertaker knew. “Mm, uncle Mal isn’t just _Death_... He’s a God and well you know how they say, God has a plan, well Yahweh might not, but Maltheal, umm, _Undertaker_ … With him, it’s almost guaranteed he’s been scheming and knows more than any of us… I mean he is really, _really_ old. Don’t you think he knew that master wouldn’t be able to accept the soul you had him make for him?” he chose his words carefully, not wanting to give anything away just yet, excited for the surprise and this time would be different. This time for sure… If Maltheal wanted a happy ending, no doubt he would receive it and that made the familiar warm with hopefulness. This time would be different for sure.

Ciel took hold of the chainlinks on either side of Poe’s swing, cold against the skin of his palms, and pulled them back to chest height before pushing them forward and running under the small child. The familiar’s resulting whoop of delight was a welcomed, short-lived respite from the anxiety. Ciel vaguely recalled some of Undertaker’s warnings about the soul that was to be created, but he'd carelessly ignored them, convinced of his own plan with Soma. Even his father had told him before he died…

“What are you thinking Poe? Undertaker made it seem as though Sebastian _wouldn't_ need a soul to… to love me, but he never said he _couldn’t_ hold it… why do you think he made it anyway, if he _knew_? Ohh!” His hand flew to his belly, digging through the multiple layers of clothes, cooling and calming the fluttering, glowing warmth just beneath the skin. “This soul,” he whispered between them as though telling the child a secret as he stilled the swing and got to one knee before him, “It's so different than the one I was born with. I've never _noticed_ my own before. But this one makes itself known at every opportunity, as if it were a… like when I was… I was… oh god… You don't think I'm…”

Poe swung his legs back and forth, holding tight to the chains of the swing. “No, not quite, not yet mistress,” he said cheekily, shaking his head and grinning toothily down at the young man, “You’re plenty grown enough to _know_ how babies are made.”

“You mean to say that if we… If Sebastian and I…” Ciel questioned pulling the laces through the eyelets of Poe’s boots and finding the simple act to be more difficult than it should be due to both the cold and his nerves making his fingers tremble. He tied symmetrical reef knots at the top of each boot and frowned as he wet his chapped lips before speaking again, “If it were to happen, do you think it would work out this time? Would your master be angry again in the end? Should I just ask Undertaker to take it back? I don’t want Sebastian upset.” 

The little boy’s forehead wrinkled and he sucked on his bottom lip, shaking his head. “Master was never angry, not until after… Don’t give it back. Uncle Mal probably won’t accept it even if you do. He wants a happy ending, right? I think that ending would be the happiest,” he finally said, his voice quiet and his eyes on the knots Ciel had tied in his bootlaces, fingers pale and tight around the cold chains of the swing, cheeks flushed though it had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“If you say so,” Ciel answered, a little confused over Poe’s confidence with his answers. The little imp knew more than he was letting on, but it hardly mattered at this point. The mortal had changed his mind; with the precious gift he was now carrying, the last thing he should be doing was engaging in open warfare with his mate’s family, or past suitors. It would be best, once they’d eaten, to propose to the demon that he was ready to share in his immortality once they returned to Eden. He’d told Sebastian that he wouldn’t mind being his prisoner and so he’d meant it. Of course, he’d come clean about their past, share with his mate what it was he knew, no matter how painful it would prove to be. Perhaps in doing so, he’d be able to deliver on his promise to Undertaker. He hefted the small child off the swing, and crouched to allow him to climb onto his back. Once secure, with Poe’s arms around his neck, little face nuzzled against his cheek, he informed the familiar of his plan, “Come on, I have to have a serious discussion with your Master, and I might need your help to fill in the details.”

Poe gave Ciel a little squeeze around the neck and planted a playfully sloppy kiss on his cheek, kicking his legs some to encourage the young man to begin making their way back home. “Okay Mistress! If you are happy, Master will be so happy. Even though he doesn’t remember yet,” he said happily, grinning and bouncing in Ciel’s hold.

They were barely on the edge of the park, the path Ciel walked obscured by a copse of deciduous fir trees, pine cones crunching underfoot, when there was an odd sort of silence that fell as if they had suddenly been dunked underwater, sound and motion muted. Poe barely had the time to make a noise voice strangled as spindly fingers closed around his throat, gripping sharply and yanking him off of the young man’s back, more hands and binding tendrils of sickly rust-coloured smoke winding around him as he struggled, filling his mouth and forcing him back and down away from Ciel.

He hissed and spat and growled, gasping in between the choking fingers of soot and bone, breaking the grips as he fought viciously, reaching for Ciel, only to be slammed back down while other shadowy creatures converged on the mortal. His face was pressed harshly to the ground, gaze teary with rage and fear as he looked at Ciel, blood on his lips and between his teeth, from his split lip, broken nose and fresh gash along his hairline, cheek aching against the unforgiving cobbled stone where he was flattened. 

When Poe was yanked from his person roughly, Ciel was pulled back with him, sent crashing to the frozen ground and onto his left side. The heavy jacket cushioned his fall but did nothing to soften the repeated blows he felt swiftly slamming upwards into his stomach, like a hoard of indistinct, murky feet kicking him all at once as he tried fruitlessly to get on all fours to rescue the familiar. With every hit, his body rose some feet into the air before falling again; the first time the snap of his wrist bones was as loud as a gunshot when it hit the cobblestone under his weight, the second time there came blood as the side of his face collided with the earth. He spit out what he was certain was a molar, and used his essence, his pain and his rage to lash out at their attackers, violently summoning a burst of white flames so scalding it should have decimated anything within the vicinity. They were snuffed out by an unprecedented but hypnotic incantation even before they left his core, sparking only meagre, feeble wisps of heat in his panic. 

His arm shot out, grasping at anything, desperate in his desire to cling to any of the dusky shadows surrounding him, but he was raised again and slammed back down. He turned to his side, holding knees to chest in an effort to protect his precious gift to his mate, extending the hand with the broken wrist to Poe only to have the sooty imprint of a foot come down hard on it and shatter all the delicate bones therein. 

Ciel screamed, yet no echo of it could be heard in the night. It was as though his ears had been filled with cotton balls; his mind wasn't far from feeling that way either. “Se-” he tried to call to his spouse too late as the soot filled his mouth and clouded his thoughts painfully enough so that all he could focus on was the searing pain, like a crown of thorns being carved onto his forehead. 

Poe struggled harder against the bonds keeping him pinned, snarling and attempting to lash out as Ciel screamed. His eyes were dark, feral, and panicked. He could not reach the mistress and he could not reach the master. Their attackers were protected by the power of a greater demon, and they had cast it over them as well, carved it into their flesh to be sure Sebastian couldn’t find them, couldn’t feel them, couldn’t reach them in time. 

The familiar cried out as clawed fingers dug through his skin, tore his clothing and as he writhed and viciously fought to free himself, there was the unmistakable pop of dislocated bones. And he could hear the shadowed, gnarled and ugly creatures disguised in the holy garbs of the clergy as the one that no doubt had sent them, whispering, cackling and chattering amongst themselves about him about Ciel and about the precious thing inside him. They were going to try to take it out, to tear it from inside him. He couldn’t let them; he just couldn’t. 

“Mistress! Mistress,” he cried raspily, biting at the tendrils that attempted to silence him and choking harshly on them, spitting tar like blood from his mouth onto the cobbled stone as he turned his head at an inhuman angle to meet Ciel’s pained gaze, “Whatever happens, don’t… Don’t let them take her!” He might have said more if he could have, but more of Belial’s servants were smothering him, forcing him flat, breaking his human form until he was pinned and still, gagged him and drew dark material over his head. Everything went dark and silent.

Ciel doubled over on the ground, protecting his midsection, and losing his breath with every impact of searing power being burned into his flesh, preventing him from calling out to his mate. He cradled his broken limbs against himself, a great gush of tears and blood streaming down his face as he looked on at the atrocious, violent acts being committed against his best friend, unable to move from his position but still unrelenting in his attempts to ward off their attackers to get to the broken familiar sprawled mere feet from him.

He knew they were playing with him when they allowed him to army crawl towards the child and grasp his small, dimpled, broken hand. Ciel didn’t care. Didn’t care that he was going to be punished for it. Didn’t care that their retaliation would likely be excruciating. “Poe… wake up! Poe!” His broken arm reached out, sending a bolt of blinding, white pain through it as he shook the child. “Don’t leave me… wake up!” He turned his head, all but snarling at the vague rust-coloured shapes, “What did you do to him! Bring him back! You make him okay!” His cries might as well have fallen on deaf ears for all the good it did. Instead inky tendrils clutched his neck, squeezing and suffocating in their intensity as he was lifted some eight feet into the air. They swarmed around him, ripping off his jacket and tearing the front of his shirt open to lick at his flesh with elongated forked tongues, greedily tasting and smelling it at once. 

“He has two of them!” one hissed, aggressively driving the others away in a faint pushback of darkened filamented coils, coveting the soft milky flesh for himself. “It smells like _Him_ and… _him_ ,” it shuddered, “He will be interested to know.” 

Ciel’s feet kicked about, trying his best to connect with any part of the lesser demon choking him, but whenever he should have, his leg simply cut through it like the sun’s rays through fog. 

Poe wasn’t unconscious, but inside the shroud they’d wrapped around his head, he may as well have been. It was torture, the not knowing what was happening to his mistress. He could neither see nor hear Ciel, could only feel the jostling of the lesser demons around him as they clambered about, binding the both of them, hoisting them up, dragging him when he struggled blindly.

And when Ciel did the same, they knocked him unconscious without a second thought, the one that had last spoken taking charge of him, hitching his limp form over its shoulder with little regard for the mortal’s comfort. They twittered excitedly amongst themselves, proud that they had achieved their task. Their master would surely be pleased.

***

Once he’d taken their guests to his garden and with nothing to occupy him in Ciel’s absence, Sebastian busied himself tidying the apartment though it was hardly in need. It was during his cleaning that he took notice of Ciel’s bookbag propped haphazardly against the wall nearest the entranceway. He grunted when he lifted it, not having expected the weight of it though it was no effort on his part to lift it. There was a scent on it, something oddly familiar, a mix of aromas, divine, human, and something older.

He’d sought out the source before he’d consciously made the decision to do so and found the ancient tome within the canvas pouch, opened it and ran his fingers over the worn parchment within as his eyes followed, devouring the text at inhuman speed. It was a story… About Ciel and himself… But it wasn’t. He couldn’t remember such events as were described in the pages, not all of them and certainly none about the beautiful human prior to his fall. He’d never known Christ, though he was much older than that story. Yet… There was something familiar, that same prodding feeling. If he kept reading, would he recall something he hadn’t? If these were memories, then whose were they and why couldn’t he remember them himself? Did his mate?

He did not get the luxury of that answer, did not even get to finish the story as an abrupt and wholly deafening silence broke over him. His bonds to both Ciel and Poe went dead, no pain, no warning, no sound or taste or waning. He reached… Nothing… He was _alone_. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, Sebastian was truly frightened.


	39. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: No Pain, no Gain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyyy, here it is, the first of several drama packed chapters. Prepare for the feels 'cause they're definitely coming in full force. Enjoy!
> 
> Also for anyone who's been following our other fic [ Raven's Lodge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11666058/chapters/26252463), it should be updated this weekend too.
> 
>  
> 
> Musix:  
> Sebastian~ [ Speeding Through the Bright Lights by Bush](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mIz3JqDm0g)  
> Asmodeus~ [ Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQnAxOQxQIU)  
> Ciel Present~ [Eye of the Needle by Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kg0EdD7tzE) [Way Down We Go by Kaleo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-7IHOXkiV8)  
> Ciel Past~ [All Around Me by Flyleaf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN0FFK8JSYE)  
> Poe~ [ The Call by Regina Spektor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNsQewlFtEs&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=140)  
> Belial~ [ The Boy is Mine by Brandy and Monica](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBmkCoiHC2c)  
> Michael~ [Game of Survival by Ruelle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbMRDbL1Urc)  
> Lucifer~ [ All I Do is Win by DJ Khaled ft. Rick Ross, Ludacris, T-Pain, & Snoop Dogg](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGXzlRoNtHU)

Everything was dark. Or rather, darkness clung to everything. It was all encompassing, dulling every single one of his senses. It blind him, deafened him and cut off any scent that might be familiar. Worse still, he couldn’t feel his mate. They had rendered him a prisoner to his mind, this room and his soul. What it hadn’t done was lessen his pain. He felt it sharp and nauseating in his sides, his mouth, his arm and his heart. 

He was too afraid to move, worried it might incite them to start hitting him anew, but when he abruptly remembered the prone figure of Poe, sprawled near him by the park, his eyes snapped open, trying to look past the obscurity. He brought his good arm to his face trying to see his fingers as he held three of them up, only to realize that his head had been enshrouded in dark linen. He felt around his neck, the front and sides first, and finally discovered a large sloppily tied knot at his nape. The small exorcist had difficulty trying to undo it with one hand; his breathing became more shallow and desperate, robbing him steadily of oxygen as he pulled at it until it came undone. Once removed, he took a deep breath, simultaneously pulling in the dampness, stench of mildew and concrete into his lungs. 

Discarding the shroud didn’t help his vision much, though it had affirmed that he was not blind. He called forth his divinity, but it was sluggish and resistant; the best he could do was produce a faint glow at the center of his palm, and it was enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings. He stood gingerly, his left side compensating for his right and brought his good hand to the wall to look for an exit; he had to find Poe and they had to get out of here. He took a step to the left, or at least tried to, but found his foot had been shackled. _I should be so lucky,_ he thought after his luminous hand brought his attention to the other chains fastened for arms, neck and waist. On the wall were also various religious symbols and scrawls carved into it, old blood staining where fingers had dug them in as deeply as possible. Infidels held captive. They were in the Vatican, he was sure of it. Despite the lack of bars and small cages, it felt nearly the same as it had when he was three years old. 

Ciel took a knee, hoping that whatever glow was on his palm would be enough to burn through the iron that held him hostage in the room, but his attention was momentarily diverted when he saw the little familiar a handful of feet away. “Poe!” he whisper-yelled, “Poe! Wake up!” 

When the small child didn’t move, the mortal tried to step forward. The clanking of the chains echoed in the small room and he was worried it would alert their attackers. Ciel got to his stomach, painfully stretching as far as he could until his uninjured hand reached the preschooler’s bare foot. He pulled it, dragging the child as he did, praying for the first time in his adult life, asking god or whomever to let Poe be okay. Renewed tears ran down his face as he untangled the firm knot of the shroud at the base of the familiar’s neck then turned the small flaccid body over to look at him. How much time had gone by since they’d been brought here? Was it too late? Was Sebastian looking for them yet? Gently, he took the sooty shroud off the child, hoping that he was alright and had some of those answers. 

Poe stirred beneath Ciel’s touch, the muted sound of the iron shackles grating in his ears as thick, charcoal lashes fluttered atop swollen, bruised, and dirty tear-streaked cheeks. Hazy garnet focused slowly as the familiar’s eyes opened finally and he drew in a breath, heart suddenly remembering to beat again. He smiled through a cracked and too plump lip up at Ciel, lifting a filthy and bloodied hand to brush his fingertips along the mortal’s cheek reverently. “Don’t cry Mistress. Master will come for us,” he said, voice hoarse and raspy in the static silence of the stone cell.

“I… I'm not crying,” Ciel whispered hoarsely, touching his own numb face only to have his prior statement turn out to be false. Now that Poe had brought it to his attention, he couldn't seem to make it stop; great fat tears splattered onto the familiar, cleansing paths along the sharp angles of Poe’s face as the mortal wiped them off gently. “I can't feel him…” Ciel panicked, “I can't feel him at all. What if he can't … Can you? Has it ever happened befo-” he finished, hiccupping softly on a sob.

“It’s happened once before… When they…” the familiar’s voice tapered off, eyes distant and anguished with recollection. The last time he had been cut off from his master, had not been able to warn him or call for him or show him what had happened, was happening, had been when Lucifer’s lover had come for the mistress and the child he’d bore inside him. Michael had worn his master’s face, had done the deed while speaking in master’s voice while forcing their bonds with the real master silent. It had been the cruelest torture…

But that had been then and this was not the doing of the Archangel; his master had been different then. Now… His master would not hesitate in his retaliation, would not be taken by surprise by the attack or burdened with the loyalty and betrayal of kin. Only Ciel and himself would be of importance to the Fallen and he would tear the world clean apart to find his mate again; of that, Poe had absolutely no doubt. 

He licked his lips and laid his hands over Ciel’s on his face, looking up into his teary mismatched eyes. “It will be different this time,” he said with finality, “We only have to protect her until he gets here; it won’t be long and you are not weak mistress. You remember and so you will endure. Master may not have his memories, but his heart remembers and he will not make the same mistake again.”

Ciel nodded, directing the child’s hand to his own midsection as he spoke, listening to him and receiving brief but potent flashes of memory: an infidelity, an escape, a chase, a beginning, an end. The order of the events had become less confusing, but he still didn’t understand why Sebastian would have… _could have_... He squeezed his eyes shut, almost painfully so, willing the recollection to just make sense; like a puzzle piece finally fitting into place or a word at the tip of one’s tongue finally being articulated. “You saw what happened after… I wasn’t there anymore. It was dark and cold and I was left waiting, fractured, lacking and unwhole for such a long time. Just confirm something for me, Poe, it wasn’t really Asmodeus was it?” Ciel knew _they_ would be back soon, that they would torture him physically, that Belial would try to permanently break the mortal’s bond with his mate by making him doubt the love Sebastian had for him, had always had for him. 

Poe looked at his fingers splayed over Ciel’s belly, half covered by the dirty and torn fabric of his shirt, the coat apparently missing after their capture. “You finally realized…” he murmured, lips barely moving as he spoke, “Master would never hurt you or her...You mean everything to him, but you know that.” His small, stained fingers kneaded over the pulsing warmth beneath Ciel’s skin and he smiled gently, fondly. Even though they were in such a terrible place, such a cold, dark, and vicious cage, trapped in stone and hidden, he had faith.

Ciel pulled the familiar closer to his body with his good arm for both warmth and comfort. The soul within, the one he'd created with his mate, assisted by Death, demanded it of him as if it had needs and desires of its own. “As soon as we’re free, I promise the first thing your Master and I will do is set to bringing her to life for you again. And this time, you'll get to keep her. We’ll all get to keep her. You've waited long enough, haven't you, Poe,” he cooed against the blood-matted midnight hair of his friend. The more he nuzzled against the familiar, the nearer they were to one another physically, the more he could make out faint residuals of his bond with Sebastian. It wasn't enough to distinguish feeling, intention or presence; more like knowing he _existed_ in one way or another, and in that he found hope. 

Poe rubbed back against Ciel, sharing in the comfort the contact provided for the both of them while they could. “I’ve waited eternities and I would wait more still to meet her,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes burning with unshed tears, but he held fast to his faith. This time… This time for sure… They just had to hold on until the Master came for them, just until then, just for now.

It was then that he smelled them, the sulfuric scent of decay that clung to the lesser demonic creatures and something else familiar; they were coming. He cupped Ciel’s cheeks in his hands tenderly, fingers digging in with urgent pressure as he spoke, “Mistress, whatever happens here, whatever they do, you must promise, let me take the worst of it. I can be mended and remade. And you must not lose faith. Keep that which is most precious safe no matter the cost, promise…”

“No… I can't let you do that,” Ciel answered, shaking his head in the familiar’s grip, the tears clinging to his lashes dislodging themselves to spatter against the childish face before him. “We know they're coming, they won't take us by surprise this time, we can fight… together.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially as he heard the imminent footsteps and implored Poe, fixing a determined expression to his face, “Please, the last time it was stress that set things in motion, she came too early. What do you think watching you hurt like that will do? Let me take what I can bear.” As he spoke the words, he knew it would make no difference. Poe was every bit as stubborn as his master; besides, it was not as if their captors would actually give them a choice, torture wasn't usually a selective process unless it was purely psychological and the choice was meant to cause more harm.

Poe shook his head, smiling sadly at the young man. “I know mistress, but you must close your eyes… Go someplace away from here. Whatever they do... Don’t see, don’t listen,” he said, caressing Ciel’s cheeks with his thumbs before they were interrupted. He could hear them now, just outside the door, just there, taunting, excited for what was to come, waiting for the permission from their master to enter. “Don’t be afraid and don’t forget. Master can love no one as he loves you.” There was the screech of iron on iron and an ominous clang before the door swung open.  
Belial strode into the cell with a purposeful flourish, his minions shying out of his way and keeping their gazes downcast as they twittered excitedly around him. He waved them away dismissively, his poisonous jade eyes sweeping over the two prisoners with scathing interest. “Get him on his feet, since you all thought it appropriate to leave him incapable of doing it himself,” he ordered, scowling his displeasure. Two of the lesser fiends moved to obey, roughly pulling Ciel away from Poe, another of their kin moving to pin the already struggling familiar back to the floor as Belial took steps towards the now upright, though hunched young man. 

Belial circled around him, taking him in, clicking his tongue in distaste. “You aren’t so pretty you know. And I’ve been waiting such a long time to meet you; I’m disappointed. I’ll admit, I expected more of Asmodeus,” he observed idly, leaning in towards Ciel and inhaling deeply, “Ahh, I see now...His interest must be in those beautifully breakable and no doubt _delicious_ little morsels you’ve tucked away inside you. And not just one, but two; planning to give him another heir, were you? Such a shame… Perhaps I’ll keep her for you, raise her up to know her mother was a whore who became too arrogant, forgot his place and died for it… Or maybe I won’t tell her at all, after all, it’s not like she’ll miss you.”

Ciel straightened up as best as he could in the demonic subordinates’ clutches, pushing his shoulders back painfully, thrusting out his chest and jutting his chin defiantly. He had no desire to appear weak before the high demon. He listened intently, swallowing snide remark after snide remark, resisting the urge to spit in the leader’s face. When his breathing finally evened out and he was clear headed enough to stand and not to lose his balance, he shrugged the lesser wretches off, with a low, but still compelling current of divine force running just under the surface of his skin. It would do nothing to the minions’ master, but it was enough to have them keep their distance for the time being. 

The mortal looked down at Poe, whose shape had begun to take on an unfamiliar form, before glancing up at whom he assumed was Belial, then cocked his head and fixed a smirk-like grin to his swollen face. The look Ciel shot him was one that radiated smug superiority; he deliberately raised a brow, and leaned in toilsomely as if to challenge redheaded demon, “You’ve been waiting to meet me? Well that’s kind of embarrassing... I don’t even know who _you_ are… Is it supposed to be flattering that such a low-ranking gutter-demon would be willing to go to such lengths, to be _clamoring_ for an audience with such an _unpretty_ thing such as myself? At least Lucifer was _somebody_...” He gave a half shrug, though it was painful to do so, then sighed to convey his annoyance with the whole thing. He ignored the jibes about the second soul, hoping that his cheek would draw Belial’s attention from the newly created one and from Poe. 

Belial threw his head back and cackled vapidly for a long moment, the sound more dangerous than mirthful. He put one hand to his own chest, still grinning as he looked back at Ciel briefly before his eyes flickered to the floor where Asmodeus’ familiar, now in his truer form, reached futilely towards the young man. His grin turned vicious and he met Ciel’s defiant gaze with a challengingly raised brow as he deliberately stepped on the little raven child’s hand, the sharp heel of his boot impaling the supple flesh with a sort of sick popping sound that was accompanied by a hoarse and muted cry from the childlike form. He ran a forked tongue over his serrated teeth as if he could taste the pain he was causing. 

“You aren’t a very good liar. You know exactly who I am, but I must say, your pride is something to behold. Perhaps that’s why you prefer Luci,” he said with a coy tilt of his head, a dark, malicious glint in his too green eyes, “Dare I say, in another existence, we might have even been friends little thief.” He pulled his heel from Poe’s flesh with a soft squelching sound and stepped closer to Ciel, leaning in even closer, reaching one hand to cup his cheek, healing the wounds that littered the mortal’s body, “I’m going to _shatter_ you. You’ve not known suffering the likes of which you will know here. Let’s see how long your pride holds out, shall we?”

Ciel willed his wet eyes to keep from wincing as he listened to the childlike form of Poe cry out. The less attention he gave the familiar, the more the impression he gave the demon that he didn't care; if the prince thought him as arrogant and prideful as the rest of his kin, this logic would make sense. Besides, Sebastian was Belial’s end game, he would take more pleasure in hurting the mortal than he would the demon’s companion.

With his good hand, he pushed the demon’s away from his face with bored contempt, “Don't touch me with your filth, hell spawn. You and I would have _never_ been friends. The only thing we have in common is our taste in mates, well…” he paused, his simpering laughter filling the room before he shook his head condescendingly then pouted, “No, not mates... more like angels? Demons? He never was your mate after all, was he? Did you pine for him Belial? Ever wonder what it felt like to be claimed by him from within? Fantasize about what his teeth and claws feel like breaking your skin to mark you as his own? I don't have to wonder or fantasize… because every single time he does it, begs for it, it's exquisite. So go ahead, shatter me; there is no hell comparable to having never been touched or desired by Asmodeus or to be the primary cause of his revulsion and ire.” He spat in the high demon’s face dismissively, hoping to stoke his hatred and fully understanding the reasons behind the healing Belial had instigated. They would play a game whereby Ciel would be broken only to be remade, then re-broken again. That was fine, he'd endure it if it bought his bonded time to find them. He would not die, he would suffer, certainly, but not die. Sebastian wouldn't allow it. 

Poe made a ragged sound of protest, muffled by the crush of the stone floor against his cheek as the lesser fiends ground him viciously into it, stomping on his back as he struggled under the onslaught. He wanted to plead with Ciel to stop; inciting Belial’s anger would only bring further pain to them, but his protests went unheard. 

Belial hissed, abruptly lunging at Ciel, gripping his jaw, brutally digging his claws into his flesh and making the delicate bones ache. His face was so close to the young man’s, his venomous eyes alight with envious anger and bloodlust. “How can you be so sure I haven’t felt it? He was so lost when I found him, when he fell… So _hungry_... He’s always been so confused because of you, but once you’re gone, he will come back home, back to his _family_ and you… You will be nothing but a memory. You’ll fade with time, just like before,” he argued, his voice low and dangerous. His unoccupied hand settled on Ciel’s chest, fingers digging through the fabric to flesh beneath and dark tendrils flowed further, seeking the soul that resided in his core and squeezing it, strangling it like thorned vines. “You were lucky the last time, but you will not be so fortunate again. There will be nothing left of you to piece back together this time. Without you to weigh him down, Asmodeus will be mine as he was always meant to be.”

Ciel pulled a shuddering breath through his teeth, the air hissing through them as he clenched his jaw in Belial’s tight grip. He thought his bones would shatter under their pressure; but they were only bones. They could be mended and put back together once Sebastian reached them. It was when he spat up something thicker than blood, coughed it out as it threatened to choke him, spattering the bare hands and forearms of his captor with a viscous black substance that evaporated in twisting faint wisps upon contact, that he realized it was his soul the demon sought to torture. 

His head drooped, eyes widening as he took in the clawing, coiled filaments digging into his chest and pulsing in tandem with every crush and compression he felt within. But Belial was wrong. It hadn’t been luck that had brought him back to his mate, it was Divine Intervention. A God that had been biased, on the Angel’s side and by extension his own. The redhead would have known it had he read the books at his disposal. The story had been under his nose the whole time. 

Ciel coughed again as his soul was twisted and misshapen. His mouth went dry and he had a hard time articulating anything, had to try three times before the words even made it out, “If you did… with Asmo- you… couldn’t have been… very good if he d-didn’t stay… if you had… You wouldn’t reek of... envy, Belial,” his small frame shook as he laughed, only half conscious of what he was saying since the pain was radiating through not only his body now, but his psyche, his core. Still, he kept his lips curled at the corners, a sinister knowing smile as he pressed on, “You wouldn’t be so… so jealous! Is that… why you’re so c-close? You wanna _smell_ him? Can you? Y-You should... I had him and his… his twin both in your library only hours ago. D-Did you hear us?”

Belial growled ferally, his grips tightening further, one drawing blood from flesh while the other clenched on Ciel’s soul tugged at it as if he might be able to pull it right from his breast. Stubborn thing that it was, it held fast to the young man’s being, but the pull was at the least excruciating. The demon bore his fangs at Ciel. “You know nothing little mortal. Just because you have his fancy now means nothing for the future when your bones will be dust and your precious daughter will call me mother in your stead. It’s only your blood that draws Asmodeus and when it’s dried up and this pretty little soul of yours warms my belly, he will beg to belong to me, you’ll see soon enough… Or well, I suppose you won’t…” he spat with a malicious, twisted grin before he leaned in further to press his lips to Ciel’s ear, “You’ll not meet him again in this life or any other.”

Ciel’s chest inflated, swelling and moving under the vicious ministrations and towards the prince. His eyes rolled back as his head fell behind and a long, guttural moan echoed in the room. He wanted desperately to scream but pursed his lips together trying to hold back the impending eruption. Intensifying pain continued to send shockwave after shockwave through him, blinding him and soaking him in his own sweat as it accumulated on his upper lip, brow and scalp. There was no respite from it, not when Belial tried to goad him further, not when he cackled maniacally, not even when the lesser demons began plucking his clothes off, then tried to do the same to his exposed flesh. It came off eventually, but under their nails, and against their sandpaper tongues and their teeth, leaving trails of fine lacerations on his bruise-spackled flesh; bruises his mate had left in the wake of their love making. Belial must have known too, because they were immediately healed only to be replaced with fresh, angry, reddish-purple welts. The hurt left in the absence of Sebastian’s marks spread through him as though infectious and predatory. He clenched his teeth, repressing the urge to beg them to stop, to leave the others be, it was right there, teetering on the tip of his tongue, then he heard Poe’s words again, _Go someplace away…_.

_Images washed over him, along with heat, hunger and freedom. A pleased and wholly satisfied sensation warmed his chest as he crawled out of the cavern, putting hand over hand, sweat and blood dripping from his forehead and painting his face, making his injuries look much worse than they actually were. If he hadn't tripped over his own feet, his torch wouldn't have gone out; he could have avoided walking into jagged walls, and stumbling into every single crater he encountered. Even after months of planning, he hadn't anticipated having to go so deep into the cave, or to climb down the rocky surface that led to the treasure._

_It didn't matter, it had been worth it._

_At the mouth of the cavern, he turned over onto his back, panting and completely parched, bringing his canteen to his chapped lips. “Oh God… not now… please!” He shook it desperately, violently, then tossed it to the side. He shouldn't have used any for the cut he'd sustained to his face. What was he going to do now? He'd never make the twelve hour walk back in **this** heat without a drop. His small hand groped at his side, flinging fistfuls of sand before he found his bag. He dug around it blindly, removing from its depths a beat up bronze chalice that caught in the noonday sun and blinded him momentarily. He held it reverently to his chest before bringing it up to his lips and kissing it before he spoke, “Just one miracle, Father… just something to drink… I'm so thirsty…” Despite the dryness of his voice, it echoed in the bowl, his warm breath getting pushed back into his face and further warming his overheated skin. “Ugh… very funny, Peter, nice jest… son of Christ, my ass... ,” he spoke to himself in the midst of the empty desert, “Can’t perform **any** miracles…”_

_Asmodeus had been watching mortals for as long as they’d been in creation, raised up the very first of them, sent them on, nurtured and cared for generations of them after that, grown lonely as he watched them love and live, die and be reborn just to do it all over again. And he’d pined for his own, wished to know what it might be like to love as they did. He became the weeping angel, the one that made the rains fall for weeks on end, forlorn and lonesome in his garden._

_Then his father had made his mortal brother, and he had spent his time watching him, saw his life from birth to death, and that of his only heir, the beautiful boy child that was somehow so alluring even from afar. But he did not venture from Eden, did not know Christ or his son, had never been to Earth, save for when he’d sent off his first mortal charges to find their way in the world his father had made for them. It was all he could do just to watch and yet his interest was drawn again and again to the heir of Christ, unable to look away from him too long lest he miss the stumbling, but most important steps of his life._

_It was this habit that allowed him to see the plight with which the young man was currently struggling and before he had even known it, before he had made the conscious choice, he’d come to be before him. His thick, snowy plumed wings were tucked and touching the ground behind his equally white robed form, glacial blue eyes shifting like winter skies as he looked upon the mortal with interest. The teen smelled of Eden, like the roses in his garden and his eyes were the colour of the butterflies that drank from them. He’d never seen such a beautiful creature and watching him through heaven’s looking glass had not done his beauty justice, even as battered, bruised and filthy as he was. And there was a static thrill in the air and under his skin, something magnetic and familiar, yet like nothing he had ever felt before._

_A chuckle rumbled in his chest unbidden as he heard the young man’s words and he compelled the chalice the youth held to fill with the sweet, cool hydrating fluid he was so desperately in need of as he finally spoke, “It was no jest little lord, your blood does not lie; you simply don’t know how to use it.”_

_Ciel looked up lazily, dragging the back of his sweat-matted hair in the sand to tilt his head in the direction of the husky, smooth voice. A toothy grin broke across his chapped lips, splitting them in a few areas, allowing him to taste the resulting sluggish and too salty blood mere seconds later. The pressure on his chest increased, though it was barely evident; he’d only noticed when it unsteadied his grip and cool liquid spilled over the chalice, and soaked through the thin fabric of his tunic, refreshing the skin just under and making him sigh in relieved delight. “You’re a sight for dying eyes, whoever you are,” he croaked, devouring the perfect entity with hungry eyes, sitting up with difficulty and spilling the contents of the cup onto the dry, sandy floor. The earth drank it willingly and what little had stayed atop the surface evaporated too quickly for him to even consider the loss of its subsistence. “You’re a mirage, aren’t you? Like that...” he said, nodding towards the ground where the water had spilled. He held out a hand and it trembled as he did, “Let me touch you, I want to see if you’re real.”_

_The Angel cocked his head, a decidedly confused, but endeared expression on his face as he stepped forward and bent down, reaching out to take the outstretched hand with his own. As soon as his long and soothingly cool, pale fingers made contact with the mortal’s, he felt an odd wave of warm electricity spread through him. He blinked at the unexpected sensation, but did not draw away. Instead, he leaned in closer, closed his fingers around the boy’s and smiled ever so slightly, holding his hand as he spoke again, “You should drink if you thirst little lord. You’ll find no death here.” He tilted his head towards the righted and refilled chalice pointedly, “You may call me Asmodeus, I am an Angel of the Lord. How should I call you first and only son of Christ?”_

_Sharp thrills of something Ciel could only compare to the bursts of light he’d seen over the city during storms ran through his body, heating his skin though it had been cooled by the Angel’s touch and stiffening his spine, making him go rigid in his very mortal body. He felt feverish and slightly out of control, felt it hum in every single fiber of his being. There was a longing there, stronger than any hunger he’d ever felt, stronger than the thirst that threatened to be his undoing. He wanted the Angel in a way that was most unfamiliar to him, _needed_ him and held on fast to his hand, pulling Asmodeus closer to him still with what little force he had left, “Yours,” he panted, his voice hoarse and breathless as his blue eyes venerated every inch of the Angel, “Please… call me yours.” _

_Dark brows furrowed in further confusion. “Mine?” Asmodeus echoed questioningly, uncertain of the young man’s meaning, though now that he’d said it, the idea of keeping the mortal as his own seemed appealing in a way he’d never considered previous. If the boy became his, would there be love between them? Would he finally know it as mortals did, as some of his fortunate kin did?_

_The thrumming inside him intensified as if in affirmation and he leaned even closer, hovering over the parched and exhausted youth. He would not come to find out if he let the boy fade any further. He reached for the chalice himself when the mortal failed to take it and brought it to his own lips, filling his mouth with the life giving liquid before he pressed it to the other male’s to feed him the water and heal his cracked lips tenderly._

_The Angel’s thumb slid under Ciel’s chin, tilting his face upwards. Their lips touched lightly at first, as though experimenting with the various accompanying sensations, then settled more firmly, warm and assured. It was… paralyzing in its intensity; until the mortal parted his lips to pull in a breath, only to have his tongue and throat bathe in the restorative gifted to him by Asmodeus._

_Its effects were instantaneous, nourishing his body from the inside-out, knitting his mortal fabric back together effortlessly, removing the smarting soreness and discolorations. But for each one it eliminated, it supplanted an ache that hadn’t been there previously, a devastating yearning that forced Ciel to close the distance between them again, letting his small body mold itself sinuously against the larger angelic one. Their lips moved harmoniously against one another, soft and yielding, as though already well acquainted, but growing in urgency. Christ’s heir left no part of the Angel’s lips untasted by his own, his body surging with coolness, despite the heat between them, soothing like a caress of a wave, reviving like a baptism. His hand rose, gliding over Asmodeus’ nape and squeezing gently, as he finally pulled away, eyes shining too bright and pleading, breath coming in small, rasping gasps, “Claim me. I'm yours Asmodeus.”_

_There was a stirring in Asmodeus’ body, one that was familiar, but not common, especially in response to humans. It’d been some time since his last rut and he had spent that alone, holed up in his garden, uninterested in mating with any of his kin at the time. Yet, the stir was most certainly arousal in response to what he now recognized through both the mortal’s wanton body language and his scent was his arousal. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to be attracted to the otherworldly beings, but it was not so common for the attraction to be reciprocated, but the thrumming in his core was stronger, louder like the pulse of a heart he did not technically have, eager and inherently pleased._

_He licked his lips, finding the young man’s flavour to be as alluring as the scent of heaven that clung to him and warmed with his wanting. It was so strange, but somehow felt right, familiar as if he’d been waiting for it without knowing he’d been pining for it. “Shh little one, I can’t do that here,” he comforted huskily, his soft hands stroking at the young man’s body reverently, soothing away any lingering hurts, pausing his words as he appraised the now flushed and sweetening boy. Coming to a sudden decision without mulling it over for any particular length of time and feeling as if he were on the precipice of something profound, he offered, “Would you like to come to my garden?”_

_“Will it take long to get there? Please Asmodeus, don’t make me wait… I’ve waited for you long enough,” Ciel implored, speaking the words and believing them, without knowing how or why, that they were absolute and indisputable, that they had somehow been written in the heavens by God himself._

_Desperate, clawing need came over him, and it was only by dint of sheer will that he was able to subdue it long enough to allow the Angel to pull him gently to his feet before he began touching him in earnest. He would commit every inch of flesh and bone, muscle and feather to memory. And once they got to the Angel’s garden, he would sample him with every other sense he possessed. It hit him then, all his yearning, the sudden adoration and devotion towards this being; Mark and Matthew had spoken of it when they talked about his parents, had described similar events. _Soulmate,_ he thought, then whispered it heatedly against Asmodeus’ ear after having pushed the luscious onyx locks aside, unable to wait any longer before tasting him again._

_The Angel made a sound of surprised pleasure, another shuddering thrill running through the length of him as Ciel’s lips, teeth and tongue found desperate purchase on his flesh and he wrapped the young man in his embrace firmly. He would cherish this mortal, the son of Christ, the divine heir, his own nephew; he could feel it inside him, in his very core, in every ethereal fiber of his being that Ciel was meant to belong to him, fit in his embrace as if he had always been. He drew him tighter against himself, held fast the precious creature that no doubt was meant to be his mate, spread his wings in wide dove-pinioned arcs and with a single powerful beat, they left the Earth behind._

Belial patted Ciel’s face with smarting sharpness, grinning nastily as the young man’s hazy eyes became coherent once more. “There now, that’s better, we wouldn’t want you to miss out on the best of the festivities, after all this is your last party,” he said brightly, a dark humour beneath the otherwise jovial tone, “Now then, why don’t you just relax a while. I should properly greet your guest.” He gestured with his other hand, releasing Ciel to be caught by his minions and strung up against a rough cross that had not previously been in the cell, chains slithering their way about him and keeping him still upon the mocking crucifix. He hummed thoughtfully, tapping a dark lacquered fingertip against his chin, before he snapped his fingers abruptly, the motion spurring a number of the lesser fiends to draw the little familiar up to his feet and holding him there, limbs spread in a reflection of the mortal’s pose as Belial circled around him, leaning in over his shoulder and looking across from him at Ciel. “Now, he really looks so dreadful like this doesn’t he? Can’t have him attending a party with such ugly accessories, now can we… Hmm, I think he needs a makeover, what do you think?” he observed, running his fingers along the length of one of Poe’s dark wings, stretching it out idly.

***

Ciel was not dead and neither was Poe, of that he was certain, though his bonds with both had been blocked, cut off from him and Sebastian’s fear had quickly turned to rage. He was furious and he knew exactly who to hold accountable for the displacement. He may not be able to feel either of his companions, but he had no doubts as to where they were. It was what was likely being done to them that had him rushing from the apartment at inhuman speed, keeping his human guise no longer a priority in the least. He needed to reach the Vatican as soon as possible.

Anyone caught in his way would taste his fury. How dare they take what did not belong to them. How dare they think to harm his mate, his family, to use them to bait him. Oh yes, he knew it was meant to lure him; no doubt, Belial thought himself clever, thought himself justified. But he would be disappointed in the end. Sebastian was coming for him, for all of them; now was not the time to be idle and there would be no mercy in his vengeance.

***

Lucifer hummed a jaunty little tune to himself as he sat before the vanity in his monstrous bedroom within his palace, watching his reflection in the looking glass as he pulled his long ebony hair over his left shoulder. He tilted his head, eyeing himself appraisingly as he picked up the soft bristled brush and began running it methodically through the thick, dark tresses, counting strokes silently in his head. He took his time, idly continuing his melody as he waited patiently for his lover. The time was soon, he could feel it.

The Archangel despised meeting Lucifer here, prefered to meet on Earth away from the hellish abortions that worshipped his mate, called him their kin. He was not. He was Fallen and as such, had retained his beauty, his desirability and his _grace_ , though not the kind that set Angels apart, set them above all of God’s other creations. And so Michael had continued to feed the reigning Prince of Hell his own grace when they partook in one another. Lucifer always resisted at first, his damned pride, but took it greedily in the end; in return, the archangel reveled in his mate’s expert skills as they pertained to pleasure and pain.

After having dismissed a detachment of angelic host to stand guard, he slipped silently through the double doors of his lover’s chambers, long white plumes trailing softer than whisper against the floor though they were arched high, tensed with anticipated arousal. With speed that only God’s most formidable weapon could possess, Michael came behind Lucifer, divesting him of the brush with which he'd caressed his enviable locks and continued the task himself. Interested, pale blue eyes admired his brother through the glass, never taking them off the prince as he bent forward, heating the shell of his pointed ear with his words, “For whom are you making yourself beautiful, Lucifer? Why have you called me here? Do you require my essence so soon?”

Lucifer smiled, peering coyly at his lover through the reflection in the mirror and tilting his head, to give his mate better access to his neck, reveling in the heat of his breath on his vine-patterned skin. He reached one hand back to brush through the thick, loosely waved, sunshine strands of Michael’s hair affectionately as he replied in contented lilt, “For you of course my love and for myself. After all, one should always look their best, especially when they’re expecting success. I do not _require_ nourishment, though I might not be opposed if you are offering Snowfeathers. I called for you because I wanted to know if you’d retrieved your blade after I made you privy to its coordinates.”

Michael set the brush down on the vanity and pulled back his lover’s hair through his calloused fingers, admiring the glossy velvet texture as it cascaded over his shoulders and down his svelte back. It wafted his familiar lilac scent, spicier than its usual cloying sweetness, through the spacious room, further stoking his arousal and desire for his mate; his need to please Lucifer intensified as a result. “After you _stole_ them from the child’s mind at the auction?” he teased, lacing his fingers around his lover’s neck and squeezing it tightly enough to feel the devil’s throat bob as he swallowed in response to the affectionate constriction. “When have I ever failed you, Morning Star?”

Lucifer’s fingers tugged at the Angel’s hair in his grip and he hummed, the sound vibrating against Michael’s fingers on his throat. “Never,” he replied huskily, leaning back on the cushioned vanity stool, pressing his back flush with his lover’s chest, tilting his head back to look up at his mate instead of his reflection. “You’ve always been such a reliable partner Snowfeathers… Hmm, perhaps I should reward you?”

“As much as I would like to be compensated for my loyalty, _your Highness_ , it will have to wait,” Michael supplicated, pale, ice blue eyes becoming unfocused for a moment then narrowing in suspicion as he looked down at his mate’s seductive pouted lips, picturing them being put to better use. Static filled the Archangel’s head interspersed with a faint crooning chant repeating itself in a dizzied fanaticism. Their brethren were talking. No, the Angels were _panicking._ “Our brother is on the move, my love. He is less than happy.”

Lucifer heaved a sigh, but straightened up again. “Is he now? I suppose Bell’s made his move then,” he said with a breathy chuckle, standing gracefully, turning and crooking a finger at his mate, “I suppose it’s time we make our own. Dress me at least, won’t you?”


	40. Recall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the Chapter: Heavy is the head that wears the crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so nearing the end! Less than ten chapters to go! Woo!   
> Theories, comments and kudos are more than welcomed :) 
> 
> _Music_  
>  Sebastian~ [ The Messenger by The Tea Party](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2XtNJARXCg)   
> Asmodeus~ [ I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkK8g6FMEXE) [ Worship by Years and Years](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3TflASAFJI)  
> Ciel Present~ [The Scientist by Coldplay (Cover by Chase Eagleson)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bllKLAiLo6g) [Skin to Bone by Linkin Park](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OYdeuj3EOw)  
> Ciel Past~ [Unce Upon A Dream by Lana Del Rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qi0dSsZR6E0)

“Don’ look like tha’ Poppit,” Undertaker said as he looked at his vaguely scowling mate, nimble, black-lacquered fingers swiftly fastening the many buttons on his long, dark shirt. Snake’s displeasure was palpable though his expression to anyone else might have seemed mild; his lover was not happy, but it couldn’t be helped. Everything was going according to plan.

The hybrid’s eyes shifted from human-like to golden vertical slits as he glowered at his mate. He hissed under his breath, sibilating something to his lovelies as Emily stretched from her perch on his shoulders to spit and hiss her displeasure at Maltheal. “I agree with Emily,” Snake told the ancient one, “we will not sit idly by while the only friend we’ve made aside from our mate, the only other being to accept us as we are, is being tortured by our kin.”

Maltheal sighed heavily. “Ya know why it ‘as ta be this way Poppit. I know ya don’ like ‘t, but Seb’s already on ‘is way ther an’ we aren’ gonna be idle, but ya know we ‘ave ta wait so long. I know ya love tha lil’ phantom, but iff’n ya wan’ ‘im ‘appy in tha end, ther ‘as ta be suffering. Fer wha t’is worth, I am sorry t‘as ta be this way,” he said soothingly, stepping over to the younger male and reaching out for him.

“I won’t wait here any longer, says Wordsworth,” Snake grumbled speaking through his serpent, though he rarely ever did so when addressing his mate. The stress was unnerving him in a way he hadn’t experienced in millenia; he’d worn a smooth path in the catacombs where they were holed up, occasionally lashing out at the stone and earth in which it had been dug. His companions had latched on tightly, refusing to leave him in this distressed state, save for Donne who’d been begging and pleading him to be allowed to go find the Phantomhive boy. Their whispered hisses were becoming almost as unbearable as the agony that thrummed through his sparsely scaled body, when quite suddenly he turned on his mate, “Quite right, Wordsworth. I’m sorry Mal, we’re leaving. We won’t interfere with _your_ plan, but the moment Asmodeus enters the Vatican, so will we.” 

“I wouldn’ ‘ave ‘spected any less Poppit, but I’ll be accompanyin’ ya as well. Ya well know ‘ow invested I am in th’two ‘o them. T’s not jus’ ther ‘appy ending, but ours too, remember?” Maltheal said quietly, pulling his rigid lover in against him, pressing his cheek to the crown of Snake’s head, and giving him a firm squeeze, “All will be well m’love, I promise.” 

The soul he’d created was an experiment. He’d always theorized that he could perfect creation just as well as his brother had, that he could just as well make life as he could take it. When Ciel had first been slaughtered by the Archangel Michael, his soul had been shattered and scattered; it had taken centuries to collect all the shards and piece them back together. Longer still to find the closest blood relative of Christ with the capacity to carry the Divine variant, dormant when he bound it to their blood in place of its rightful heir, but at least kept safe and whole there while it waited generations to wake again. 

And the precious little light that had been growing inside him, a new soul, the first of its kind had been all but snuffed out entirely. He’d found only a flicker of her, his great niece, a new breed of creature, a bridge between humanity and the Divine; hope. She represented the Eden she had been bred and born into, the paradise everlasting where all endings were joyful and he could not let her slip away. He’d kept her flicker safe inside his blood until the day had come that her mother had come to beg for her. Perhaps Ciel hadn’t know it then, but with his one request, he’d already paid for it in full. Her father would find redemption, they would be reborn unto heaven as they’d been meant to; she would live this time and he and his lover would finally have the last piece of their own happy ending. He’d mastered creation with hope and with it he would finally finish their testament and begin another.

He let his mate go a moment later, offering him his hand and a soft, reassuring smile. “Le’s be on our way then Poppit, we wouldn’t want to miss the ending of the story, now would we?” he said as his dark wings unfurled from his back.

***

Ciel was still out of it when he came to. Where were the rolling sand dunes, the wide expanse of sky, the heat, the tender blue eyes of his saviour? Why was it so loud and why did it feel as though he might fall at any moment? He blinked, reluctant to open his eyes, a grim memory pulling at the edge of his mind. He did not want to be here, but why? Something thicker than sweat trickled down his face, into the inside corner of his eyes, his mouth and around his ears. He brought up a hand to brush it off, to remove the sharp, cutting weight set atop of his head, but found he couldn’t; the clanking of metal against metal caused a sudden eruption of inhuman laughter, high and keening and it was at this point that Ciel’s eyes snapped open. He was suspended some feet off the ground with his arms outstretched, painful in both angle and height and he was looking down where his holy blood had christened the concrete cellar floor and at an almost unrecognizable Poe who was being forced to stand in front of him in a mock reflection of his current position.

The familiar didn’t seem to have suffered any new injuries, but in his current state, Ciel knew his judgement wasn’t the most reliable. How long had Poe been forced look at him? How much time had gone by? Why wasn’t Sebastian here yet? What had the demons done while he was buried deep inside his own mind? His body hurt in ways he’d never experienced, the agony of it curdled in his stomach and shrilled through frayed nerves like livewires. He’d suffered a few more broken bones, of that he was sure; he could tell by the heat and pulsing of seven of his fingers, his ankle and most definitely his nose . Please let him not have cried nor begged them to stop. As much as possible, he would hold tight to his pride, would not allow them the pleasure of breaking anything but his bones. 

It was Belial’s voice directed towards his lover’s companion that had the small mortal trembling with renewed fear. The taunting words, and the ominous touch of Poe’s feathers had Ciel’s mouth going dry and it took an iron will he scarcely knew he possessed to stay present, to _stand_ in solidarity with the familiar. He would not let Poe suffer alone. 

“Ah, finally _The Prodigal Son_ returns to us,” Belial said mockingly, watching Ciel as he dug his nails into the downy dark feathers of the familiar’s left wing, crushing the delicate bones within with soft cracks. Poe bit the inside of his cheek and used the resulting blood to lubricate the passage of his muffle whimpers back down his throat. Belial’s fingers found his other wing as well, broke it beneath them as blood-tipped onyx feathers fell like soothy tears to the stone beneath Poe’s feet, burned on contact, turning to ash as bittersweet wisps of smoke curled into the air around the cell’s occupants.

Ciel wanted nothing more than to bring his hands to his face, but he didn’t know what sense he’d mask first: his eyes to not see the twisted anguish bleeding into every line on Poe’s face or his ears to not hear the reluctant little whines that escaped his mouth as he tried too hard to conceal his pain from his mistress. The chains clanged against themselves as he tried to pull away, their resonance derisive and mocking like the demons surrounding he and the familiar. He didn’t care that his own wrist broke and rebroke at various places in the cuffs as he struggled, or that a faceless demon’s clawed hand pushed him back so forcibly against the crucifix, that the air expelled from his lungs came up blood spattered under the snap of two of his lower ribs. “No! Stop it! Stop doing that to him!” he beseeched them, and when they didn’t, he growled and spat at them, his anger eliciting an erratic thrum of divine energy that pierced their jeers and had the lesser demons on their knees, clawing at their faces in agony, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all... I swear to God I will.” 

Belial laughed, watching his minions writhing as the electric energy of Ciel’s divinity crackled in the air. So desperate, so distraught… So futile… “You don’t like that, hm? But he’ll look like a real child if we remove these,” the demon needled, smiling in faux innocence as the sound of flesh and bone coming apart accompanied by the familiar’s low whine overlapped the shrieks of the lesser fiends. Poe’s fingers clenched so tightly, his nails bit into his own flesh and crimson bled between the white-knuckled digits. His toes curled in agony as his wings were slowly torn from his back; searing wicked arcs of agony raced through his nerves, his tail whipping back and forth furiously, unable to control the motion. Until Belial’s hand shot out to catch it, dropping the feathered appendage in his grip with a wet sound as it hit the stone and hissed as it burned.

“And I suppose we should be rid of this unruly thing as well,” Belial said as his thumb stroked the silky skin of the familiar’s wiry tail in a threatenly gentle motion until he abruptly thrust it down, snapping the vertebrae with a sick crack the lanced through the cell. 

“Don’t! Mistress… don’t look, don’t see…” Poe sobbed, reaching bloodied hands out towards Ciel as if to cover his eyes and sanguine-tinted tears bled from pained scarlet depths, “Please… Look away mistress…” 

But Ciel couldn’t. He could no more tear his gaze from the gore, than he could stop the sadistic entity causing it. He retched, his guts twisting at the sight, his small, fatigued frame still convulsing and twisting against his restraints, his unbroken fingers twitched, trying to extend to the familiar. _Sebastian… Sebastian…_ he cried through their bond, keeping his eyes dry for his audience, but feeling as though he were dying little by little on the inside. He found no comfort in his connection, just emptiness and desolation. He wished for the childish figure before him to wail his torment, to scream and beg for his death; he was suffering for nothing. Suffering for him. _Just let it be over, let him find peace… Sebastian could remake him…_ He gave Poe a supplicating look, willing him to understand before he demanded of Belial, “Just kill him for fuck’s sake! End it!” 

Belial raised a single, shapely brow, a satisfied smile curving his red mouth, sharp teeth digging into his plump bottom lip in his excitement, eyes lighting up as another of the dainty vertebrae gave under his thumb with a harsh snap and a raspy whimper from Poe and the boy shook his head vaguely as he kept his eyes to Ciel’s, imploring him. He understood the young man’s sentiment, but he was only worsening the situation. Belial would revel in the distress he was causing the both of them, would know and exploit it. The familiar flinched as he felt more snapping jerks in his tail and the searing in his back numbed, ticklish rivulets of blood winding over his skin and mingling with his sweat and tears. No matter how his mistress begged, it would not be over soon, not until the master came for them. It would only be hours, but it would feel like eternities, already did when it had in fact probably been some handfuls of minutes.

“Oh no, we’ve only just begun. Why spoil the fun so soon?” Belial said sweetly, his unoccupied hand curling into the strands of damp-clumped raven locks and yanking the childlike familiar’s head back. “Spit them out for me, won’t you love?” he murmured next to Poe’s ear, watching Ciel as smokey fingers invaded the little raven’s mouth and pried the pointed fangs from his jaw. Poe choked on them and retched, spitting them out with the shuddering exhale of his voiceless cry and sending them skittering across the stone as Belial chuckled gleefully, “Now give us a big smile.”

Ciel had officially reached his limit. The lesser demons had gotten to their feet again, were circling them, screeching their arousal vulturously, reveling in adversarial distress and torment and misery. A number of them lapped gluttonously at the ground, gorging themselves on Poe’s ashy feathered remains, while others fought each other, all claws and teeth, over the droplets of Ciel’s divinity strewn on the floor below him. The most grotesque of them, perhaps Belial’s pet, fed the lesser entities by pressing down on the thorned crown adorning the mortal’s head, causing fat rivulets of blood to gush down his face, following the angles of jutting bone and spattering the floor to grateful inhuman moans. His vision swam in front of his eyes, taking on a crimson aura as blood ran into them; he blinked once and saw the familiar sway, his tongue poking out of his toothless mouth, then blinked again to dislodge the vital fluid from his sight only to have them flutter open to radiant, sapphire orbs smiling kindly at him.

_Asmodeus leaned in to kiss the young man on the mouth as Ciel’s eyes fluttered open, palming the soft mound of his belly as he molded their lips together familiarly. “Good morning my darlings,” he greeted as he pulled away from his mate’s mouth to kiss the steady pulse of warm life cradled protectively, adoringly by his large hand, spending an extra moment there, nuzzling the smooth skin affectionately before he finally pulled back again, hovering over his lover and smiling fondly down at him. “It is the day of your father’s birth my love, do you want your present now or after breakfast?”_

_Ciel arched his back, stretching lazily, voice still rough with sleep when he answered his angelic mate, “Good morning.” He brought their hands together, pressing a kiss to the back of Asmodeus’, as the growing life within nudged and shifted her position, effectively answering for them both. “The princess wants breakfast, and I can deny her nothing. Will you carry me, I’m still a little stiff from last night, my love,” he requested playfully, bright blue eyes making his sated state obvious._

_The Angel’s grin broadened, amused as his hooded gaze shifted over the many kiss marks that littered his mate’s skin. He nodded, already shifting his grip on the young man in preparation to scoop him up, his wings spreading overhead. “Of course. I should be so lucky to serve you and the princess,” he replied cheekily, abruptly beating his wings and lifting Ciel from the warmth of their nest without warning, chuckling when Ciel yelped and scrambled to wrap his arms tightly around Asmodeus’ neck._

_“I didn’t get you anything, Asmodeus,” Ciel apologized, mumbling into his lover’s throat, lips heating the soft, but firm skin there as he spoke, “I did not know… That is to say, Peter, Mark and Matthew never did such a thing. For them, the day of my father’s birth was a day of mourning, much like the day on which he died.”_

_Asmodeus tilted his head, endeared as he looked at his mate, hovering in the air for a long moment. “Perhaps, but for me, it will always be cause for celebration for if he’d not been born this day, you would not be mine now. I would not know love as I have come to,” he said, the liquid sky in his eyes shifting like waves in the sun as he vaguely swayed them to a silent but familiar melody._

_“Tell me again why you love me, Asmodeus. Why it is not only my divinity that you cherish,” Ciel asked, leaning his head against the space between his lover’s shoulder and his breast, listening to his false heartbeat in time with the soft cadence of the melody he hummed. He’d heard the rumours among his mate’s kin that Asmodeus was with him only out of obligation, that he’d been fulfilling a divine order from upon high. Others simply accused the mortal of luring the Angel of Love with his father’s blood. Jealousy, his mate had said in consolation, jealousy, envy and ignorance; and yet, in times like these where he was sleepy and sore, bloated and less than… than lovely to mere human eyes like his own, the reassurance was a gift in and of itself._

_“I could not list all the reasons my darling for I find more everyday. It is your soul that calls to me, always has, a warmth, a curious eagerness, and a profound belonging. With each breath, each word, each new understanding; in each moment you remain at my side, I find myself loving you more than the last. It is like nothing I can describe, the elation I find inside me with each morning we greet embrace with one another,” Asmodeus said sincerely, gaze warm and thick with devotion, “I may have been born an Angel of the Lord, but I was never so blessed as when you were born for me.”_

_A petulant little pout found itself on the mortal’s face as he tucked in his chin to avoid the angel’s scrutiny. “You’ve said this before, Asmodeus. Be concrete. I, for instance, love you for how gentle you are with Ori, how devoted you are to your calling, how much a wonderful father you’ll make to our daughter,” Ciel intonated, looking up at his mate, eyes swimming with unshed tears. He continued as he mouthed along the angel’s broad chest, shifting his position from bridal style to wrapping his legs around the angelic body, still embracing his neck, “For the way you hold me while I sleep, even though you require none of your own. For the emotions you rouse in me, for the way you make me crave your touch…” Small hands brushed through the celestial being’s hair behind his back, like silk through his fingers. He brought their faces mere inches apart, whispering between them as though it were a secret for nobody but them, “for the way you kiss me.” He rolled his hips against Asmodeus’ bared abdominals, and his voice shook when he finished, “for the way you desire me and make love to me, even in this state.”_

_"Never enough. What is it you want to hear my love? How your scent drives me wild, how your mere breath makes even this false heart of mine quicken maddeningly, or how I hate to sleep because I miss you as soon as I close my eyes. I long for your voice after you've only just finished speaking, yearn for your next kiss before the first has even been broken and it aches to be away from you for even a minute. You invade my every thought and the feel of your fingers against my skin haunts me the moment we're not touching," the Angel lamented, voice smooth and genuine as he spoke the words like a prayer, like absolution. He rocked lazily against Ciel, kneading his hips and thighs appreciatively, “Or is it your human nature, the curiosity, the awe, the very spirit of you? The fire that creeps out in your determination and empathy or the sense of peace you bring me after long hours spent away tending the love of others?”_

_“Now, was that so difficult, my love?” Ciel teased, his smile unmistakable in his voice before crushing his lips to his mate’s._

***

The tears that had been unshed in the memory, now ran freely from his eyes, washing away the divine blood that had stained his world in crimson hues. He wished the demons would make more spill from the crown of blackened briars he wore to obscure the clear line of sight he had to Poe’s battered form collapsed on the ash-covered and blood spattered floor. Slowly, inch by miserable inch, Ciel’s chin came up to glare at his captors who’d lined the wall opposite him, shifting nervously from foot to foot. They were clearly shaken and wounded and this pleased him. Whatever had transpired, they were not so eager to touch him anymore. _He_ must be coming soon. They must feel it more than he did at the moment with the rune carved into his forehead preventing their bond from speaking to him.

“You’re almost out of time Belial,” he taunted, chest expanding unevenly, painfully with his broken ribs while his mismatched depths bore into Satan’s son’s, “You should run. Your minions want to, don’t they?” He inclined his head in their direction, mouth curling into a cruel, sneering smile as he spoke to the dozen of them, “ Leave now, and I’ll order my mate to have mercy on you.” He’d barely finished speaking when four turned into darkened wisps and disappeared under the door; the others appeared desperate to follow, but looked too fearful of Belial’s retribution. They maundered anxiously among themselves, two grovelling at their master’s boot-clad feet to be relieved of their duties while the others moved even further away from the weakened mortal. “Or perhaps they would like to witness your demise. Yes, wait for Sebastian, Belial, see who he chooses.” 

The redheaded demon snarled furiously, crossing the distance between himself and the crucified boy in less than the time it took for Ciel to inhale another shuddering breath. “Shut your filthy mouth little cunt,” he spat venomously, eyes narrowed to poisonous slits. But the boy was right; Asmodeus was already battering at the outermost perimeter of the wards he’d woven to stall him. He’d known they wouldn’t last, wouldn’t keep him out for long, just long enough…

“Don’t worry pet, I’ve still enough time to ruin you for him. Still time enough to assure that he’ll never want to look at you again,” he said with false composure, a dangerous sharpness to his words as his clawed fingers trailed along Ciel’s neck and shoulder, mockingly caressing over his bonding mark before he abruptly tore through the ragged, smudged and stained cloth of the mortal’s shirt. His nails heated, turned from coal to ember as they heated with hellfire, trailing teasingly back over Ciel’s skin until they dug into the sensitive marking that claimed him as belonging to Asmodeus. The mark blistered and hissed, flesh crackling and popping as the fresh wounds were immediately cauterized and continued burning long after like hot steel beneath the skin, disfiguring the delicate silver brand that had been lovingly made and remade by Ciel’s mate’s teeth time and time again.

The long agonizing seconds seemed to stretch into days, weeks, years… And as they did, bursts of light exploded behind the mortal’s eyes like supernovae, leaving the physical evidence of their bond dense, searing and calescent in its wake. Without knowing how, Ciel managed to keep from crying out, though he shook with the effort and drew in short, ragged, stilted breaths through his nose, teeth cutting into and gnashing his tongue, flooding his mouth with the rusty bitterness of blood. His screams, like his pleas and prayers remained silent, dying before they were ever permitted to taste freedom. 

Belial was distracted only a moment, entranced by his own masochistic bliss at the sound of flesh sizzling under his touch that he scarcely noticed as Ciel drew in a faltering breath through his nose then spat his mouthful of blood onto his face, rushing to recite a zoroastrian incantation without tripping over his words to push the high demon away. It worked, driving him across the room, impacting with a satisfying groan from the concrete cell wall, but not before Belial had mutilated the lovely brand into something unrecognizable and utterly grotesque. Ciel was relieved when he couldn’t see it, but he felt it and it felt like death. His small, weakened body slumped forward, chains eating into the skin around his ankles and wrists, pulling against gravity to keep him from falling forward. _Belial was right,_ he thought, closing his eyes and hoping for oblivion to win out against the emptiness that was his now malignant scar, _Sebastian would find him monstrous._

_“You’re sure about this, Asmodeus? **All** Angels do this to their mates? You don’t only want to spread your lovebites all over my body?” Ciel teased his lover coyly, laying on a plush bed of the Angel’s wings as he hovered over the expecting mortal at the edge of the pool of midnight, sparkling fluid fed by the reverse waterfall. They’d only just come out, smelling of the freesia and hyacinth petals whose essence littered the water and were lazing about for a few hours before the Angel had to return to his duty. As was their habit, they spent their time touching, embracing, kissing, and intermittently discussing their plans for the arrival of their daughter, only some days away. “I’m already yours as it is, what more proof do you want?” the said guiding the larger hand over the swell of his hard belly. _

_Asmodeus bent to hover over his mate’s belly just above where his palm rested, his tongue flickering out to taste the milky skin, a vague smile on his mouth as he looked up through dark lashes at the young man. “I’m sure my darling. Are you not? It may burn, but it should not be uncomfortable,” he pressed a row of adoring kisses down the mound of his mate’s belly and up his chest to his collar, “And it is not for me, but so others will know who cherishes you.”_

_Ciel rose to his elbows to look upon his mate with a knowing and delighted expression, “Oh, it’s not for you at all, is it?” he teased, pressing his lips together in an attempt to mask his growing smile. “It won’t please you to see me painted in your signature? Tell me you’ll feel absolutely_ no _pride in displaying your mate in such a way, Asmodeus.”_

_“Ah, now that would be lying and I’ve promised never to lie to you. Of course I will be proud to have my marks on your skin for eternities to come, but I am just as proud to bare yours my darling, every mark I carve into you will be reflected upon myself as is the way of bonding our beings together,” the Angel said, tilting his head charmingly and smiling, his long hair falling in a deep midnight velvet curtain, effectively obscuring his mate entirely from view of the anxiously curious pale eyes peering at them from the lush foliage where Ori was hovering._

_“Mm… Then don’t let me stop you,” Ciel’s answered a little breathless and demurely to coax his lover, fully submitting to the Angel as he arched his neck and brushed the skin where his graceful pale column met his shoulder with a ghosting touch that raised the fine hairs there. He tapped his ring finger gently near the pulse, guiding his Asmodeus’ attention to that most sensitive spot on purpose, “Start here, please.”_

_“Spoiled thing,” Asmodeus accused breathily as he followed his mate’s direction without argument, “How I adore you.” He pressed his lips to the flesh for a lingering moment, reverent before his sharp tongue took their place, carving intricate symbols of vow and eternity onto Ciel’s body and deeper, etching promises of forever on the mortal’s soul. And in turn, the marks burned at his own throat, reflecting his mate’s acceptance of the immortal bond being woven between them._

Laughter rumbled in Ciel’s chest, soft at first, then throaty and raucous when it spilled from his lips. His head came up and he shook with it, denying the breaks and strains and pains as a self-satisfied grin spread across his face. “Belial, you missed a few!” At his words, the hundred or so runes tattooed reverently on flesh and soul in his past life resonated in the cell, causing the high demon to flinch as their vibration and brilliance bridged the distance between them, sneaking through the bars and under the door, illuminating through mortal layers of blood, muscle, skin and clothes. 

“Maybe so, but it hardly matters when he doesn’t remember you. If you’re so close as you claim, why is that exactly? Could it be perhaps, after all you’ve done to him, he doesn’t _want_ to?” Belial hissed viciously, head whipping about as the markings on the mortal resinated, a sure sign that the being that put them there was getting closer and he very much doubted Asmodeus would care to see him in such a state; how unflattering… When he fled, it was with another dramatic flourish and the whispered threat that they’d be seeing each other again soon, followed by the groan and ominous slam of the door behind him.

Then there was silence for long moments before an abrupt rush of sound, the stricken pattering of running feet and fluttering wings, hissing, cursing and what sounded very much like prayers muttered before they were replaced with inhuman shrieking, wailing, and desperate begging until there was abruptly silence again, a slow growing puddle of viscous crimson crept beneath the door. 

Sebastian had taken longer than he’d have liked; it was not the strength of the wards that delayed him, but the sheer numbers of them new and old. It was tedious breaking through each, his desperation and retaliatory vengeful rage grew exponentially with every increasingly wasted moment. It was no doubt the work of Belial, had his signature woven into each tangled and thorned thread. And he knew he was close to Ciel; he could smell him, could hear the whispering pulse of the souls that resided in him, stronger with every broken ward, every shattered and shredded body of his brethren and any other that barred his path to his mate.

There was an underlying intensity in his movements, and anxious familiarity like he’d felt this way once before, lost himself in the carnality of his nature with all the righteousness of the divine and the viciousness of the demonic; he became what he was, Fallen. There was no remorse for the suffering he inflicted, no reflection on the screams and wailing pleas of the creatures that fell before him and left empty in the wake of him. Following blindly the strengthening scent of his lover, he chased the last few unlucky vermin down a familiar hall, assaulted by the memory of not so long ago rescuing a little boy from these very cells. How had he not known then that someday he would be retracing the steps of his past and even perhaps before then. How many times had he rescued his lover? How many times had he been too late to save him? He’d thought he knew, but the echoing in his core begged to differ.

He ran a forked tongue over his serrated teeth, blood dripping from claw and feather, staining scaled skin with sanguine scarlet so deep, it nearly matched the smoldering darkness of the feline depths of his eyes. And none of it his own shed. Perhaps the road to redemption was paved in good intentions, but the road to vengeance was bathed in blood. 

Bodies were torn and scattered like litter by dark lashing tendrils that seeped from the inhuman form, thrusting them out of his path to reach the wrought iron door that was the last barrier between he and his mate. He did not touch it, but it bowed and wailed as it opened before him and the snarl that sounded from him upon seeing the state of his lover was something more than primal.

Once the door was wrenched open of its own accord and the towering gore-splattered figure snarled, bearing its fangs and claws before it, Ciel’s composure and mock confidence and courage crumpled and so did his body. Finally, he snapped, more terrified in that moment than all others combined since his capture. His head shook, and so tangled were his locks in the thorned crown, that it stayed secure and bled his scalp anew, sending steady streams of crimson raining down his face. The screams that issued from his mouth tore through the silence like a jagged shard of glass through newborn flesh, so loud and piercing that they roused the familiar from unconsciousness. “No! No! Not again! Stay away from her… Stay away from me! Don’t… Don’t!” He thrashed and flailed about, trying to dislodge himself, to shield his stomach, to protect her like he’d promised. His knees buckled and the small block that somehow managed to support his weight shifted, sending the balls of his feet sliding off. The movement had been so brisk, so violent that the chain that had held them together slashed clean through his trousers and skin under them. He plummeted a foot, his wrists remaining in their position chained to the crucifix but gravity could not be stopped. A sickening sound broke through his pleading as both shoulder joints popped simultaneously to accommodate his drop. He was out before he'd stopped swaying lifelessly from the cross.


	41. Consolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the Chapter: Cleanliness is next to Godliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Friends! 
> 
> Thank you for waiting so patiently for this chapter :) We're trying our best to do the weekly updates, but as the story nears its natural conclusion, it's taking us longer... we desperately don't want to leave loose ends. 
> 
> Do us a favour? If there's a specific mystery you're looking forward to finding out about, let us know- that way we'll be sure not to forget! 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [ Thousand Miles by Tove Lo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpLVRzpW10I) [ Wolves and Doors](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjNR_JMaVNc)  
> Ciel (Past)~ [Moondust by Jaymes Young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGhes-VIC94)   
>  [I know you by Skylar Grey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJKxWW_2uTg)   
> Ciel (Present)~ [Do You by Carina Round](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-jTN7r_fww)  
> Lucifer~ [ Lazarus by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaBvIwXhJXs)  
> Michael~ [ This is a Forgery by Dashboard Confessional](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9H2uehso9KE)

_”I won’t be long Asmodeus,” Ciel reassured the Angel, cradling his handsome face tenderly in his hands, searching storm-clouded eyes for resentment or rejection. There was something there, hurt perhaps? It couldn’t be helped. Thrice they’d tried to make love, but each time the pain had shot through him, hardening his belly, causing wave-like spasms to his back and abdomen. The inexperienced mortal had thought for certain that she would be born soon. “I’ve been summoned by Gabriel and you must tend to your garden before…” he was cut off abruptly, wincing when she moved again, the little angular edge of her elbow traversing his belly as she turned over inside him, “Just so we’re ready…”_

_“You shouldn’t be travelling. I’d feel better if you stayed. Gabriel can come to you if it is so important he see you now,” Asmodeus replied, a hint of petulant irritation in his voice. He didn’t like the idea of being away from his mate when he was in such a vulnerable state, had for weeks been returning sooner from his duties to be close to the young man. It was so close now to the birth of their daughter and he was upset and perhaps a bit frustrated that he was being left behind, already sore about his inability to provide the usual comfort for his increasingly anxious mate or share in their mutual intimacy. To be told to stay while his lover left only soured his mood further._

_“We’ve discussed this already, Asmodeus; you need to try to temper your possessiveness. I’ll not have our little apple growing up thinking her _mother_ is weak. Besides, Ori will be with me, won't you love?” the expecting mortal chastised his mate softly, then turned to the dove who’d been preening its feathers on a branch overhead in an attempt to pretend it wasn’t eavesdropping. Its bright blue eyes widened at the sound of its name and warbled cheerfully as it swooped down and rested on Ciel’s shoulder, nuzzling his flushed cheek. Before walking away, the small youth closed the distance between he and his mate, wrapped a hand loosely around the the nape of the Angel’s neck to pull him closer and rose on the balls of his feet, pressing his lips against his Asmodeus’ in a soft lingering kiss. “Do you still love me?” he asked reluctantly as he inclined his head coyly. _

_The tall Angel slanted his gaze at the young man, feigning indifference, though his returned hold was firm and protective in contrast. The expression didn’t last long though before his smile gave him away, the fondness in his eyes overlapping the lingering discord in the glacial depths. “As if I could stop my darling,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to his mate’s, scenting him indiscreetly, “Even with Ori with you, I’ll come for you if you take too long returning.”_

_Minutes later, Ciel and the familiar left the garden to meet with the Archangel. Growing up, the mortal had been told a variety of stories by his uncles Peter, Mark and Matthew, and none captivated Ciel as much as the stories of his mother, Mary Magdelene. In his moments of doubt and tribulation, he’d never been able to relate to Christ; he always felt he’d fallen short of the expectations some might have had about the son of the Messiah. His mother, who’d boasted no divinity and who had lived a difficult life of poverty and exploitation had miraculously captured his father’s attention. And though he himself had divine blood running through his veins and he’d never lived through the abuse she had, he’d still spent his young life as a thief scrounging for food. If anyone would have understood him, how he felt both blessed to be with Asmodeus and undeserving of such a special mate, it would have been her._

_So it was no surprise that at this very point in his life, when he was precariously balanced on the threshold of parenthood, that he would seek an audience with her Guardian Angel, the one that had announced his father’s birth, his grandfather’s very own messenger. Who else would know her better than the entity charged with watching over her for the entirety of her life. He’d been thrilled when all his snooping, all his asking around and trading relics for information had paid off and that a powder blue note, signed by Gabriel himself, had been left in the garden for him with a meeting time and place. Forty minutes after having arrived at said location, Gabriel still hadn’t shown up. Ciel left completely deflated, shoulders slumped and feet dragging a little as he made his way home. The only consolation was he knew his mate would be there to comfort him._

_It was when the already heavily burdened young mortal’s shoulders slumped and he dejectedly turned back towards home that Ori changed from bird to child form. He could better comfort and cheer up Ciel that way as they walked back together. He talked to Ciel animatedly, pointing to things that he thought the boy might fancy._

_As they approached the last copse of trees through which Asmodeus’ garden sprawled, the cherubic winged familiar halted his voice and Ciel abruptly with an arm cast out in front of him. Ori sniffed at the air, something familiar and unwelcome whispering in it. He caught just the barest breath of it, not enough to be sure. “Wait just here please. I need to make sure it’s safe,” he said haltingly to Ciel over his shoulder before his wings spread and he took off into the trees, leaving the leaving the young man behind._

_Ciel stood on his toes, eyes chasing after Ori’s small childish figure through the foliage that demarked the periphery of his mate’s garden. When he could see nothing, he inched forward, waddling slightly on swollen ankles after having exerted so much energy on his walk to and from the meeting place. By the time the large willow tree that dominated the space came into view, Ciel was panting so loudly, clutching his left side at a painful stitch that he scarcely heard the familiar, wanton sounds being carried on the meagre breeze from he and his mate’s usual resting place. As he drew closer, he began making out Asmodeus’ name being called in a desperately needy tone. Had someone been hurt? Why would they be here of all places? Surely Raphael was close by to tend to them?_

_It was when the curious boy heard his lover respond with equal vigor that he realized he’d misinterpreted the _need_. His body hadn’t yet caught up with his mind and it kept lumbering him forward, wheezing as he dipped under the cover of the willow and fell back against the rough trunk, out of anyone’s sight. His hand came up to his mouth to stop the agonized cry that was slowly making its way up from his chest and to his throat. He wasn’t as successful in halting the flood of tears that poured from his eyes as the growls and moans filtered through the surroundings, making the branches tremble, while the trunk shook as though something, _someone_ was pushing against it. _

_Lucifer in the guise of Gabriel wrapped his legs around his mate’s waist, one hand braced on the pale jawline that belonged to Asmodeus, admiring how accurate the glamour was as he rocked against the taller Angel. Even their voices matched perfectly. “Mm, it’s too easy Snowfeathers. You play your role too well,” he said as Michael pressed him back against the trunk of the large tree, and cocked his head coyly, digging his nails into the clever doppelganger’s back, “But you don’t have to be so gentle with me, I’m not mortal.”_

_“I was only getting warmed up, _Gabriel_ ,” Michael purred seductively in Asmodeus’ honeyed tone, snapping his hips forward and back, forward and back again, forcing his lover against the willow, making it groan under the strength of their combined movement, “I’m not used to such a lover; strong and beautiful. How I’ve missed you, _My Love_.” They’d both heard the little mortal approaching, were aroused further by the scent of acrid distress and salted sorrow. He was hiding on the other side, most likely thinking himself clever as he cradled the abomination in his swollen belly. _

__My Love?_ Ciel lamented internally, wrapping his arms around his torso in an attempt to keep himself together. _My Love,_ it echoed, not only in his mind but roared gutturally throughout their home, filling all the spaces he had once shared with his mate. The rumours _had_ been true after all! He’d confronted Asmodeus when he’d heard them and he had not only been assured that it was _not_ the case, but also shown his mate’s devotion over and over that evening. The mere thought of it summoned a wave of nausea so potent it had Ciel dropping to his hands and knees and retching soundlessly; the weight in his belly dropped as a sharp pain radiated from back to front, causing his agonizing gut cramps to resurface. He had to leave. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t wanted. _They_ were not wanted. _

_“You better hurry up before he gets too far, after all, you promised me,” Lucifer murmured breathily, one arm tightly wound around the back of his mate’s neck while he peered over the other Angel’s winged shoulder. He smirked as his lavender gaze bled through his disguise and met the frosted azure of the tethered and gagged familiar where he’d pinned him with violent violet tendrils to one of the smooth rocks that rimmed the glittering pool that resided in his brother’s garden._

_Ori struggled, able to see Ciel doubled over and in obvious distress, but unable to reach for or call to the young man. He could not tell him it was a lie, that it was an imposter. Couldn’t the mortal tell? Didn’t he have faith in his mate? But Ori could not blame him, after all, he was in such a delicate state and he’d been so hopeful and they’d never thought, never even considered that their kin might strike out against them this way. And he could not warn his master either, no doubt the work of Lucifer. But why? Why would Yahweh allow this to happen? Why had he not cast his wayward son back out of heaven? Why would he forsake them?_

_Ciel crawled out from under the thick canopy, chest heaving and wiping his mouth as he stood up and stumbled blindly from the garden. Twigs broke under his heavy, disoriented footfalls, but he didn't care anymore if the sound carried to his mate; it's not as though he would notice as busy as he was, crooning words of love and desire to Gabriel… touching him so familiarly… kissing his mouth and neck and… filling him..._

_“N-no…” Ciel sobbed shaking his head, cradling the bottom of his spasming belly with one hand as he pushed aside the tall grasses and wildflowers that grew on the outskirts of Eden with the other. For the first time in a year, he wanted to go home, wanted to be as far away from Asmodeus as it was humanly possible, though it would be for naught. He would always find his way back to him. The angel was his soulmate. If God had made Adam from dust and his mate Eve from her husband’s rib, then the Creator had made Ciel from the Love Asmodeus sowed in his garden for the sole purpose of returning it to him. And as hurt, as betrayed, as wrecked by torment and agony as he was, he loved his Angel still. He would take him back, all his mate needed to do was ask._

_As though she sensed the momentary reprieve from hurt, his intended forgiveness of her father, the little princess within calmed and stilled inside him. Ciel stopped as well to take a shaky breath through his nose, keeping his mouth soft to sigh the breath out. Inhaled through his nose again and exhaled through his mouth. A slight hissing as air moved in, and a long, drawn-out “aaaaaah” as it moved out._

_But then it happened. A spasm ripped through him and this time he screamed, every nerve in his body was on fire. The torment started to recede and just when he thought he could breathe, his belly cramped and contracted again with white hot pain. One second, two seconds, another contraction. This time he half-cried, half-screamed through it, feeling as if he was being ripped asunder. He turned to see the willow, close enough that Asmodeus should hear him, feel him, but too far for Ciel himself to make it back. In the opposite direction, he thought he caught a glimpse of someone carrying something before he fell to his knees. He wasn’t able to look again as he rolled onto his side in time to be claimed by another contraction, searing and sharp, and he was barely hanging on to the edge of awareness, could barely regroup for another assault._

_She was coming. “Not yet… Not yet…” he pleaded with her between keening wails and sobs, “Not alone. Please, not alone. Ori! Ori!” His voice cracked on each word. His knees came up as another spasm shred through his body and he held them as best as he could, making himself small, tucking her in so she wouldn’t come out. His eyes were pinched shut and he puffed out small, quick breaths; he thought certainly that the pain would kill him. And when nothing else could be done, when the pain would not abide, he resorted to the oldest call for help known to all humans, he begged for her though he didn’t remember her, “M-momma… Mmmomma…”_

_A cool hand touched his heated face, wiping away the sweat and tears, “Ssshhh…” she told him, using the bottom of her blue outer garment to soak in the small basin of water and twist over his forehead and hair. And though it was cold and refreshing, it did little to ease the persistent, punishing aches that readied his body for the birth of his daughter. He yelled for Mary again and the stranger with the crown upon her head and her heart lit afire, crooned softly as she planted her lips to his hairline, “She’ll be here, just hold on a moment more, Ciel.”_

_She watched her grandson as he nodded weakly, his terrified eyes swimming with tears, supplicating as he looked at her while she tended to him. She helped him onto his back and knelt at his head, pulling him up to her, cradling him as she had her own Son when he’d been taken down from the cross. She held both his hands, allowing him to squeeze and shatter the bones as his pain crested and fell; she remembered too well what it was to bring life into the world. “She’s here, little one, everything will be fine.”_

_Ciel could barely tear his eyes away from the very human woman who’d come to his aid when he heard the most beautiful, comforting sound to ever fall on his ears. “I’m here my darling, You need only be brave a moment more.” Her voice was rhapsodic, smooth, reassuring. He imagined her singing to him as a child, just as she was now, as she lay her hands on his trembling belly and soothed the life within. “Focus on my voice, Ciel, and look to the Mother of Mercy, ” she told him, breaking the familiar lullaby then resuming right away before the discomfort could find its way back into his body._

_He tilted his head upwards, tears still streaming, lips parted, air coming in quick successions as she smiled gently at him. He felt his mother’s hands cross the barrier of clothes and skin, felt them warm and searching as she found Aurora’s head. He cried out as she secured it in her palm and he was anxious, desperately wanted to look when his grandmother leaned over him, obscuring his view, crooning to him, holding his face to her heart, “Not yet, child, she’s almost done, don’t look yet.”_

_She wept for him as she had her son, _Poor little lamb_ , he would suffer, she’d heard the rumblings in Heaven. As his mother removed the babe from its womb, rendering the physical barrier non-existent for a moment, the Holy Mother instilled in his being, the flame of her immaculate heart to strengthen and bind his soul, should the worst happen. _

_If Ciel had thought his mother’s voice had been the most melodic sound to bless his ears, he had been wrong. It was her cry, full of life, staccato and so small that both broke his heart and mended it. He extended his arms, desperate to hold and soothe her, crying rapturous tears of his own as his mother placed her on his chest and the Holy Mother wrapped them both in her shawl. He heard a set of footsteps retreating as he closed his eyes, sharing his warmth with his daughter, then felt a hand ghost upon his face, “You did well, my darling. Rest now,” and they were alone. Aurora’s crying had ceased, and the occasional whimper fell from her lips as he snuggled her. The tall grass swayed above them, caressing and sheltering as he began to drift to sleep._

_It was from the boughed branches of the willow that Lucifer watched his disguised mate stalked through the grasses towards the unwitting mortal. He smiled, holding the little familiar in his lap, one hand over his mouth though he was already gagged,and bound, forcing Ori to watch the events unfolding, punishing him when he struggled to look away or get free. “You see little bird, what happens when humans forget their place? If their union was so blessed and the abomination growing inside him was anything but **unnatural** , where is father to stop this? You see how he abandons you and your master; this is meaningless to him.”_

_He straightened up suddenly, forcing Ori painfully to watch as well, broken wings limp and awkward pressed against the child’s back between them. The little thing whimpered and whined hoarsely, muffled and pathetic as they both watched Michael approach the young man and babe prone in the outlying field, pulling his long crystal sword from the flesh between his winged shoulders._

_“Where are you little rabbit? It’s time I keep my promise,” Michael’s words echoed in Asmodeus’ voice as he moved through the tall grasses and wildflowers, steps confident and purposeful as he shifted his grip on the pommel of his blade idly._

_Ciel was mentally, emotionally and physically drained and he would not have fought the urge to keep his eyes shut were it not for the fact that he simply could not tear them away from Aurora. She had inherited all of her father’s beauty, a bit of his own, and by some miracle the former didn't detract from the latter, but rather it enhanced it. She was perfect. A blessing and a gift. A miracle that not even his father had managed. She belonged to him. To Asmodeus. And they belonged together._

_So absorbed was he in adoring his daughter that he almost failed to notice the momentary view of his mate approaching when a faint breeze swept across the tall grasses. The glimpse he caught was an ominous one. That Asmodeus was looking for him, he was certain, but the Angel’s expression was all wrong, his face was all wrong; it bore such a fierce determination that it was almost disfiguring on his handsome countenance. And if that wasn’t enough to quicken his pulse, the near-silent whir of a blade through the feathered reeds did. In all their time together, Ciel couldn’t remember Asmodeus ever being in possession of such a weapon; in fact, he distinctly recalled the Angel saying he did not like them. Then again, he’d also said he’d never loved another… would never love another..._

__And what promise was his mate referring to?_ the small mortal asked himself, willing his sluggish, exhausted brain to think. _All **Ciel** had ever promised was that he would be loved for eternity by the Angel. This new promise, whatever it was, had been made to someone else._ He held Aurora closer to his body and made quick work of knotting the shawl he’d used to cover them tightly at his hip, swaddling the baby snugly to prevent her from moving. He had to get out from the field of wildflowers, wait until Asmodeus was in his right mind again, keep Aurora safe at all costs. Ori would help. As it was he could scarcely distinguish the rustling of the grass swaying in the breeze from the whisper of heavily plumed wings dragging along the ground. He crawled low to the ground, baby hanging from his chest and sleeping soundly as he made his way towards the giant willow, in hopes that the familiar would be there. _

_The raven imposter gave chase, grimfaced with determination, predatory bloodlust reflected in the glacial gaze, frigid and unmoving as he stalked through the grasses after his prey. He scented the growing unease, the fear from the mortal as confusion clouded his mind; he could taste his victory in it, proud and remorseless as the little human and the abomination he’d birthed stumbled back towards the very place he wanted them, where his lover was waiting and watching. He could feel the eyes on him, expectant and appraising. With this, he’d no doubt be rewarded._

_As the young man’s pace quickened and staggered, so too did his pursuer’s. The archangel took to the air, lazily circled over him and swooped down upon him as he broke through the curtain of the willow’s weeping limbs. He landed before him with his sword poised at his hip and smiled as the mortal pressed himself back against the trunk, his chest heaving and causing the disdainful little creature held tight against him to whimper and stir. There was a soft snapping sound from above, a dead weight dropping between the canopied branches overhead and stopping short as the broken and near lifeless form of the dove familiar was strung up in a mockery of crucifixion, vine-like tendrils holding him aloft like a puppet on strings while Lucifer hummed a delighted little tune in Gabriel’s melodic tenor from some obscured hiding place within the branches. Michael’s smile only broadened._

_Ciel’s unblinking eyes had been pinned on Asmodeus as he stalked them, weapon in hand, too late to notice Ori falling from the tree to do anything to help him. The shock of it had sent him falling back against the willow’s trunk as his own blood-curdling scream had sent Aurora wailing. It was a full-throated, nerve-fraying sound and Ciel, having barely been a parent for an hour, found himself at a loss of how to comfort her. He rocked her in his arms, buried beneath the shawl and shushed her in a trembling voice as he rubbed soothing circles along her back._

_His dirtied bare feet dug into the ground as he tried in vain to push himself further from the Angel, failing to calm his daughter in between lamented sobs for the avian familiar. “Why Asmodeus…” he languished, finally getting to his knees and turning his back to his mate to shield their daughter, “Ori… Gabriel… your family? ”_

_He saw none of the Angel’s warmth in the hard, midnight blue depths, knew there was no feeling left there for him. In this moment, Asmodeus was no longer the Angel of Love, he was an angel of destruction and death; but perhaps there lingered enough possessiveness for their daughter to be spared… “Please Asmodeus… please my Love… have mercy on her,” he begged, crouched over Aurora, hand up and outstretched towards her father as if Ciel could stop the fatal blow. “She’s yours…” he cried, “yours… angelic and beautiful. Yours… all yours… only yours…” he pleaded through broken, bastardized sobs._

_He was sick with grief already, suffering and mourning for not having held her more than the once. For never having had the opportunity to bathe her in their lagoon, for not having been able to keep her._

_But he had felt her warmth, her heartbeat against his own. In their short time together, he had loved her more than anyone who'd ever existed had ever loved. His tears fell on her face as he pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling her scent one last time as he crooned _her_ lullaby. _

_Neither the Archangel or his blade made any distinction between boy and babe, running through the both of them in one fell swoop. Pain radiated so swiftly, so white hot and magnificent that it was consuming and shattering until there was nothing but numbness left in its wake and there was a sound like a sigh, a last lilting breath and flutter of lashes from eyes no longer seeing and then silence. It was the sort of silence that lingered, that stilled everything in its embrace and cast judgement upon them and Micheal shed his disguise as the sword in his sure grip whispered from flesh and bone and fed the willow with the blood that dripped from its tip. He stood tall, confident and righteous. He’d rid heaven of something unworthy, unholy and vile and he was undeterred by the sound of silence casting judgement. He knew he had done right by Heaven, his mate, and his Father; his conscience was clear and the silence was meaningless._

_He swung the blade in one harsh arch to remove the clinging remnants of impure blood from its edge, then sheathed it between his wings once again as his mate joined him, a pleased curl to his glossy lips and a promising glimmer in the Fallen’s lavender depths. Lucifer threaded their fingers together and leaned in against him, still smiling and beginning to hum again as they made their way out of the Garden without a backward glance, unaware as the last flickering shard of light faded in the young man’s breast only to be captured by scarred, pale and soot-stained hands just as it was leaving._

***

The bloodlust abruptly left him as Sebastian stood in the open doorway to the cell that housed his lover and his familiar. He could feel them both again, now that the wards had crumbled around them in the wake of his destruction. Distraught coloured his expression and the deep melancholy croon that left his chest as he surveyed the state of the young man, worsened by his own abrupt struggling. Ciel was afraid of him; he’d felt the panicked fear just before the mortal had broken himself and lost consciousness. He moved without sound towards him as the dark aura around him expanded through the cell, barring any other being from entering and washing over the childlike Poe in tender and soothing waves, healing his many wounds as he remained asleep.

When Sebastian reached his mate in what felt like an eternity which was less than even a second, he reached for him. The cross that held his mate aloft split and splintered, dissipating smokily as the broken body fell into the Fallen’s waiting arms heavily. Intense flickers of image and feeling sparked behind his scarlet eyes, senseless, but that same fear and deep aching grief rolled through him with familiarity and he _knew_ it was his lover’s and his own from a past he did not remember living. He understood now that their story, their present was not the first to be told about them, but even so, he was only privy to the most confusing of snippets and for the moment did not have the patience or the time to chase after them while his mate needed him so desperately.

His touch was mending, knitting bones and flesh, and frayed nerves back together and even after, firmly kneading feeling and warmth back into the young man’s skin. And he spoke to him then, his voice hoarse and strained, distressed by the quiet whimper that lodged in his mate’s chest and echoed in their bond with incoherent grief, “Shh, it’s alright now. I’ve come for you. It’s safe Ciel.” His left hand spread itself over Ciel’s soft belly and felt the pulse of the soul still housed there, safe and unharmed, protected even when his mate had been unable to protect himself. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Ciel’s ear, uncaring of the sweat and blood and filth that lingered on his skin and in his hair, his other hand cupping the back of his head, keeping him close. He began to hum that lullaby through their bond, the only one he knew though he could not remember where from he’d learned it, but had always soothed the mortal and taking the time to weave words between the melody as if they were part of the song, “You’ve done so well love. You’ve been so strong, but it’s alright now. I’m here; I’m real. Just open your eyes and see my darling. Come back to me.”

The first thing to register, before the renewed fear, before the awareness of pain or the absence thereof, was Aurora’s lullaby. It had been the last thing to live upon his lips as they had pressed against her wisp-like, soft, downy hair. Great fat tears pooled in the corner of his eyes then spilled over his face before he so much as considered opening them. He didn't want to. What if she slipped from his memory again? He would forget the way she had felt, the way she had smelled, the way she had sounded. And had it been only a dream, a nightmare, he would have lost her twice. He swallowed hard, resisting consciousness with all his might, and when his grief became too much to bear his empty arms sought to reach for another. 

He could feel the throbbing beat of Ciel’s heart in his chest, echoing in his own and accompanied by the steady pulse of the second soul inside him and he could feel it’s faltering stumble as he mate’s fingers dug into him and his eyes remained desperately screwed shut. There was a sharp sting against his own fingers as they slid further through Ciel’s matted hair and made contact with the thorny crown still heavy upon his brow. The singular bead of dark burgundy bled from where the wayward thorn had bit him and as it stained the cruel briar crown, it was reborn. The harsh and angular vinery became soft, sinewy and braided intimately, adorned in the silver blue roses that only grew under his hand and had always suited his mate so well. The blooms caressed his lover’s brow fondly, their petals soothing away the angry tears there and spreading their familiar and comforting scent through the cell. And as he held the young man against him protectively, he began to sway them as the smoky lilt of the lullaby continued, comforting and coaxing through the bond that they’d been so lost without.

Try as he might, Ciel could not resist the comfort and relief, the infinitesimal respite from the anguished suffering and the seemingly impossible consolation of his grief that flooded through their bond. And yet, it had deceived him once. It had been there in the morning before the last time he left their home in Eden and had been suspended on his way back. How had he missed it? It wasn’t any different than what Belial had done; and if one greater demon could do it, so could the rest of them… Snake had said as much, hadn't he? But who had done such a thing? 

Then, he had _not_ been deceived? No. His mother, Rachel, had told him, Ori… Poe had confirmed it as well. He buried his face in the warmth that cradled him; trying to sort out the confusion between his lived realities. Was he back in the Vatican cell? He was too comfortable to be suspended from the cross. Was it Heaven? Certainly the embrace in which he currently found himself, the reverence it exuded, the love and care that flowed through him were worthy of his own paradise. And if he wasn’t dead, was his soul in limbo again? Waiting to be put together anew? To be reborn? There was but one way to know, one way to fit the pieces together again, “S-Sebastian?” he croaked in a small voice; his mouth was desiccated, his throat burned from being torn by his screams, but he prayed it was loud enough to be heard, if not felt. “Sebastian… who did the sword belong to? Who has a mate with a sword that can shatter a soul? Two souls?” 

Sebastian did not need his memories to know the sword of which Ciel had inquired and to whom it belonged. “Micheal,” he answered, a dark tone to his smoky voice as he said the name, bitter as it was on his palette. The heavy anguished rage that had overcome him previously at the mention of his elder sibling came again, more potent with the new understanding he’d gained. He did not remember, but he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Michael had betrayed him and so many pieces began to fit themselves together. He held Ciel tighter, breathed him in; he was so precious and he must have lost him once because he knew he couldn’t lose him again… He wouldn’t allow it. “He is Lucifer’s consort and our father’s knight.”

“Lucifer?” the small mortal asked uncertainly, enunciating every syllable as though he'd never even heard them strung together like that. But he had, and the Prince’s name caused him to shudder against his mate, grasping the feathers from the soiled midnight wings at his back and bringing them forward, wanting to be completely surrounded by them, just to shut the rest of the world out. He sought refuge in Sebastian’s embrace and his demon granted him asylum from his fear and the painful memories he still couldn't distinguish as being now or then. If Lucifer had been capable of such an atrocity, and Ciel was sure he was, then it was no stretch that he had sent Belial, the way he had sent Michael. It was clear now that the Ruler of Hell did not like getting his hands dirty. 

Still, Michael’s glamour had been impeccable, and Ciel was reliving those vivid recollections as though they had only just occurred. Though he _knew_ Sebastian had never betrayed him, he couldn't shake the feeling of deception and sorely needed to be reassured, to be loved and desired, and revered again. “You're sure it’s Lucifer? Not Gabriel?” he asked, jealousy managing to seep into their bond as his hold on the feathers became more possessive than comforting. 

Sebastian’s brows pinched together, confused by Ciel’s inquiry and the possessive jealousy he could sense in the young man as he clutched at the silky plumes of the Fallen’s massive wings. “Gabriel? No, Michael wouldn’t court an Angel like Gabriel. His opinion on humanity was always more in line with Lucifer,” he answered after a brief moment of confused consideration. Those memories were so long ago now that he had to dig in the vastness of his apparently incomplete recollections, to find them. That life no longer belonged to him and it was strange to remember as someone else. His hands stroked through Ciel’s hair and down his back in soothing repetitive strokes as he held him and continued to sway the both of them. He pressed his lips beneath Ciel’s ear then further, down his neck to his shoulder where the half ruined mark of his bonding was found. His tongue lapped over the scarred flesh, mending the fresh wounds as he cleansed it, repairing the last damage that had been cast upon his mate.

Ciel considered asking Sebastian if _he_ would have courted an angel like Gabriel, but bit his tongue instead. His jealousy was still aroused thinking of Asmodeus with the other Angel, the resentment ebbed and peaked in time with Sebastian’s gentle strokes; it was a whisper, then a scream and he wondered how much of it the demon felt. Though he'd been trying to mend their bond, Ciel still felt it sluggish and murky in some areas. Whatever Belial had done to it, it didn't feel the same. Perhaps over the next weeks and months, but until they were safely back in Eden, he felt that they were both living on borrowed time. 

He pulled away from Sebastian’s mouth, the healing strands of his saliva clinging wetly, comforting along the base of his neck and offered the Fallen the other side, “It's all wrong, I can't feel you the same. Please mark me again…” he said in a low, gravelly voice, pressing in closer and hoping it would not only help strengthen their bond, but to dilute the pain that still lingered and ease the jealous thrumming energy.

Sebastian buried his face against the offered pale and unmarred column of Ciel’s throat, a dulcet thrumming purr in his chest in response to his mate’s plea. He cradled the back of his head with one hand, tangling his fingers in the rose-crowned locks as his other hand palmed the small of Ciel’s back supportively, and keeping him firm against himself, warming his mate’s skin with his own. “You know what you do to me, what will happen if I do that my darling… And still you invite me in this most vulnerable state while we are not free of danger. How I adore you. How I need. How I ache for you… What I would have done if I had been too late. All would be ash if I’d lost you…”


	42. Conception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral: Revenge is a dish best served cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music:  
> Sebastian~ [ Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yf5qrVdD9E0)[ Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gOsM-DYAEhY) [ I Alone by Live](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNrQOUtXYOo)
> 
> Ciel~ [Can’t Pretend by Tom Odell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-OxOmsqR0) [Powerful by Major Lazer Feat. Ellie Goulding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYYjz6ep7ZQ&index=79&list=PLI1hq_M4ffx0UOuH_tgr6jevFX_O_qfn3) [Killing In The Name by Rage Against the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWXazVhlyxQ)

Once inside the Vatican, it hadn't been much of a challenge to try to locate the small mortal. All Snake had to do was follow the trail of gore splattered among the walls, ceilings and floors. Nobody had been spared in the wake of Asmodeus’ rage and determination to reach his mate; not the lesser demons, not those he recognized as being in Lucifer’s service or in Michael’s army, not even the mortals that had devoted their lives to obliging the corrupt _religious_ demands of the Church or the angels that had been sent to watch over them.

It served them right. 

Snake cleared a path for his mate who followed some paces behind by spreading his own dark aura, pushing the remains of various beings to the sides and cleansing the floor where their feet fell. When the bloody trail came to an abrupt end at a curved entrance, metal door thrown carelessly to the side, torn and folded upon itself at impossible angles, the hybrid paused only a moment before charging into the room to which it led. 

“Uh uh not so fast Poppit,” Undertaker chastised as he caught his mate around the middle, pulling him back against himself. He chuckled when Snake hissed at him and struggled to get out of the hold. He kept one arm firm around the Nephilim’s waist and pointed with the other the smoky tendrils of Sebastian’s powerful and protective aura where they coiled and churned in the open doorway and obscured the pair of lovers inside the cell.

“No, Mal! Let me go… I need to see if _he_ is alright. Asmodeus might need my assistance,” the hybrid spat, struggling against the god’s firm hold. His serpents snapped at Maltheal’s fingers aggressively, some catching on the ancient flesh in an attempt to free their companion. 

Maltheal did not even flinch as his fingers were nipped, remaining unmoving in his hold as a vague, muffled moan sounded from beyond the barrier and the shadowed figures beyond it were moving in frenzied motions, becoming more heated by the second. “Oh hoh, ‘e won’t be needin’ any o’ th’ sorta ‘elp ya’d be offerin Poppit. From th’ sounds o’ it, I’d say ‘e’s well on ‘is way ta a speedy recov’ry. An’ even iff’n tha’ wasn’ th’ case, ther’s no way ya’d be able ta get passed th’ barrier Sebby’’s _erected_. We best jus’ be waitin’ an’ keepin’ a lookout fer now ‘til ther done gettin’ reacquainted,” he argued with an undertone that belied his amusement.

Snake’s hand had been poised to try to penetrate the blackened smokey barrier, his own special brand of toxic green shadowed mist making its way from his digits and palm and pushing against it. He withdrew it, turning to his mate, admonishing his lovelies to take their place again as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Again?” he hissed under his breath, a surly tone coloring his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Why must they always… Did you know I had to listen to this nonsense outside the Vatican library just some hours ago?” 

“Ay Poppit, but ya well know ‘ow they are,” the older being said with a broad smile, cuddling his indignant mate and nuzzling the crown of his head affectionately. “‘E’s always used tha’ sorta intimacy ta both replenish an’ share ‘is power. ‘E’s prob’ly jus’ desperate ta ‘eal an’ be closer ta ‘is lil phantom. I know iff’n it was me in ther wit ya, I’d ‘ardly be any differen’.”

***

Sebastian hitched Ciel up by the thighs, plundering his mate’s mouth with his tongue, growling appreciatively when the young man sucked on it teasingly. His hands kneaded at the naked flesh of Ciel’s hips, thighs, and sides, reacquainting himself with every inch of the milky skin, mapping the runed symbols reverently and they came to life beneath the press of his fingertips, lit and warm in their wake as they moved on to the next and the next after that. He broke away from the kiss panting though he had no need for breath, and kissed a searing path down the side of the young man’s neck, cleansing his skin and nipping over his pulse, “If I take from you again this way, so too should you take from me my darling. This is but a brief respite; we must bolster our strength in one another. The battle has only just begun.”

Ciel’s slender, bare legs wound tightly around the demon’s equally naked torso, sliding against it when his hips rocked up slowly, rhythmically, in wanton submission. “I don't want to fight anymore, Sebastian,” he said, drawing in sharp, heated breaths, “Make me strong so we can go home. Let's take Ori and leave. He's been through too much. Has suffered enough. I owe him his happiness.” The familiar’s words washed over him as he let his mate’s tongue and teeth pleasantly ravage his skin, healing and claiming and strengthening him, _Though you made it different this time, it'll be the same,_ The mortal’s hands wound in Sebastian’s hair, pulling gently at the roots and exposing his neck to take his turn tasting his mate. He nipped and kissed and lick at it, his need growing as his lover’s flavour filled his mouth, moaning his appreciation and desire to rile his demon.

The Fallen growled lowly, tilting his head as Ciel’s tugged at his hair, giving the mortal full access to his neck. His hands slid over his mate’s pert rear, long lacquered nails prickling at the soft skin as he groped the cheeks firmly, kneading the flesh appreciatively. “He hasn’t been called that in a long time… Mmn, and he will recover; he’s resilient, but we cannot run anymore my darling. It’s clear now that they’ll not be deterred so easily. Belial will hardly let us walk out from here. It may have been his doing bringing us here, but no doubt, Lucifer is not long in making his appearance. Take of my blood; it will empower you for what’s to come my love,” he murmured, breath warm along the damp and marked column of his mate’s throat to his shoulder. His hips rolled up against the press of Ciel’s backside, his already eager manhood sliding slickly between the pale globes held in his grip, the tattered and stained clothing they’d both been clothed in previously no longer a barrier between them, burned away to ash.

Ciel’s eyes rolled back when he felt the press of his mate’s slick arousal moving smoothly in the crease of his rear and nudging his entrance. “I don’t only want your blood, Sebastian; I missed you, I want you… I need you,” he spoke in his neck, biting down a little harder on the soft, warm skin, but not breaking it. His teeth grazed along his lover’s shoulder, leaving thin red lines along the unmarred flesh, sucking it and adding his own red and blue marks, where in their previous life, Sebastian had worn matching runes. Pressed as he was against the demon’s welcoming body, he felt the soul nestled in his belly flutter contentedly as though expectant and excited the more Ciel became aroused. 

Ciel’s arousal accompanied by the drawing flutter of the eager soul that resided inside him and the scent of divinity so heavy in the air around him, the familiarity and yearning stoked his own excitement. It was potent, the desire he had to erase the feeling of any other creature from Ciel’s skin, to sink inside him, remark him and remind him where he belonged, to whom he was promised. The usual thrumming of arousal that washed through him after he’d quenched his bloodlust and fed was there, but it was more than that. There was a pull, something deep and profound, unfathomable, but he couldn’t care to analyze or put name to it; it didn’t matter. He _needed_ as Ciel needed. He growled, hissed and purred lowly as he shifted his position, slipped the fingers of one hand between the pale cheeks and wasted no time pressing them inside, preparing his mate with swift efficiency, desperate to connect, to reclaim, to covet and cherish, fill and sate.

Ciel drew in a sharp breath through his nose as Sebastian stretched and filled him, moving his long, blackened digits in and out in less than gentle but still reverent motions, preparing him for something much bigger to come. The small mortal shuddered and groaned, forehead resting against Sebastian’s broad shoulder, his long navy fringe falling over it as his slender hips pushed back, and his lover’s bucked up, prodding and slicking his backside. The rhythm Sebastian had established had his small lover practically bouncing in his arms, and Ciel only shifted a little to better feel the friction of his cock rubbing up against the demon’s taut abdominal muscles when Sebastian brushed his sensitive spot. He cried out, and bit into the smooth curve connecting Sebastian’s shoulder and neck and as the thick velvety texture of his lover’s essence coated his tongue, Ciel moaned softly, pulling more from the wound, glutting himself on the sweet elixir of his mate’s blood. The life within grew warmer in his belly, extending itself as if it had soft, wispy tendrils, to reach upwards to be fed and nourished by its father. 

A guttural and primal sound rumbled in Sebastian’s chest as he felt the vague sting of his lover’s blunt-sharp human teeth in his flesh. He pulled his fingers out of Ciel seconds after as the drawing suction of his mouth coaxed thick, spiced rivulets of his blood onto his mate’s tongue. He shifted his hold, lifted and maneuvered his lover’s lithe body to accommodate him as he abruptly impaled Ciel, returning the bite with his own, marking the mortal as he had so desired and reveling in the cry and clench of the body against his own. Fresh waves of need and power washed through him, divine and electric, warm and shared between them as they exchanged blood, ignorant of where they were, safe in the cocoon of Sebastian’s heavy aura.

Ciel’s head shot back and his lips were parted in a silent cry, as Sebastian’s hands held his hips in a bruising grip, slamming into him over and over and plundering his blood. He felt the the clenching and pulling of his body in reaction to the intrusion of the demon’s manhood every time he was lifted, and the filling, welcomed burden each time he was forced down onto it. He held the demon close, possessively, pumping his own hips fast, then faster, as if in time with the thundering rhythm of his lover’s blood coursing through his veins, strengthening and reviving in its diffusion. Sweat and slick ran down the back of Ciel’s thighs, then along Sebastian’s body, mingling with the demon’s own sheen of perspiration. It was good, so good and he didn’t want it to end, though he knew it would soon. He craved more of it, reveled in the sweetness of his lover’s claim and the dilating heat and shiver at his core. 

Harsh grunts and heavy breaths, low growling groans and primal snarls fell from the Fallen’s mouth as he consumed the bittersweet sanguine divinity from his mate and claimed him again and again. His thrusts were as powerful as his grip on Ciel’s hips as he brought them against his own, brutally assaulting his mate’s pleasure center as his ridged cock was driven deeply inside him repeatedly. The rhythm of their lovemaking became fevered, frantic and desperate as they climbed to the precipice of pleasure together, incoherent praise and endearments of promise in a language that was not human bathing Ciel’s skin in Sebastian’s devotion as he was fast approaching his peak. 

He fell from the ledge moments-eternities, and a handful of thrusts later, a possessive and muffled growl on his tongue and his teeth deepening the wound he’d made at the base of Ciel’s neck. The runes on Ciel’s skin lit up and were reflected upon Sebastian’s as the raven stilled inside him, hips jerking as he locked himself in place a filled his mate with liquid heat, proud and satisfied waves washing through him with every pulse and eager spasm between them.

Ciel’s cries were absorbed by the shadowy darkness of his lover’s protection, joining and mingling with the demon’s growls as Sebastian locked his arms around his small frame and held him in place as he rode out his orgasm. The restraint only heightened the rush of arousal, the detection of being filled and overfilled and the feeling of wetness seeping from where it should have been trapped. It tipped the mortal’s orgasm, and a shockwave of divinity surged forth from the small body in the form of an outpouring of searing cerulean flames pushing the darkened aura away and taking its place. The demon swayed as a result of its intensity as Ciel writhed in his lover’s arms, shuddering, shivering and sucking in air; comforted by Sebastian’s strong, possessive hold and his souls thrumming with satiation, conception and divinity. 

Sebastian held him for long moments after, just breathing him in and feeling him and savouring the feel of his heartbeat echoed by the pulse of the second soul that assured him he had not been too late. Ciel was safe; he was whole and their bond was thrumming between them with renewed strength, resonating with the devotion and faith between them. His contracted hand cupped the back of his mate’s head, fingers tangled and fisted loosely in the ashy midnight strands, pressing his lips behind Ciel’s ear, murmuring in the language of Angels like a secret into his hair, “ _I love you. They won’t take you from me again._ ” And they wouldn’t. He would protect his mate and the precious gift he held inside him at all cost.

Ciel pulled away from Sebastian and narrowed his gaze into one of ferocious determination. His eyes might have reflected the divine fire lit in their midst, but his words were ice, both searing and biting in the seriousness of his threat when they fell from his lips, “I won’t let them this time. I swear, Sebastian; I will burn this holy institution to the ground if they so much as try again.”

“I’ve no doubt you’ll give them Hell my darling. They’ve made a grave error in underestimating you. I am here now so you will not have to face them alone,” Sebastian said as he stared into his lover’s mismatched eyes, lit with his determination and divinity. Oh yes, his kin had grossly miscalculated. His hands ran over Ciel’s skin, spreading gossamer midnight ribbons beneath his fingertips. The clingy material covered his vulnerable flesh, unlike any manmade fabric, lightweight and smooth like spider silk, weaved so tightly that it would provide his mate with some added protection against the claws and teeth of his lesser kin. “When we are free of them, we’ll return home where my roses bloom,” he finished as similar apparel carpeted his own skin and he smiled at his mate, a subtle promising curl to his bowed lips. 

There was a clang knock on the crumpled iron door accompanied by the heavily accented voice of his uncle, “Oi, iff’n th’ two o’ ya’re finished canoodling, I reckon ‘t might be prudent ta be on our way. I don’ much fancy a fight in such a cramped place, nowhere near ‘nough room ta spread me wings down ‘ere.”

Sebastian’s confidence in his renewed strength filled Ciel with a dizzying sense of pride and honour. Finally, he felt an equal to his mate, worth standing next to him rather than behind him. His demon’s assurances and boldness defied the mortal’s fear and bolstered his courage. Before Sebastian set him on the floor again, Ciel took his face between both hands and kiss him hard, sealing the promise of returning home with fervour and anticipation. 

Once on his feet again, Ciel crossed the room in short but quick strides, falling to the familiar’s side, turning him onto his back and leaning over the supine form to cradle him. “Poe… wake up,” Ciel’s breath washed over his small pointed ear, his tone quiet but still one of supplicated urgency, “we need to get out of here.” He knew his mate’s dark-haired companion would be fine in minutes, but they couldn’t wait that long; he hefted the child-like familiar into his arms, bearing his weight on his hip and returned to the other three that stood just outside the cell door. Whether his recollections or his current state triggered it, he couldn’t be sure; but whatever it was, it possessed him to wrap an arm protectively around Poe and press his lips atop his onyx hair. “You were wonderful. So brave. So strong. I’m sorry you had to see… twice. I promise, never again,” he crooned, kneading and massaging the child’s back just between his sagging wings.

The little boy stirred in Ciel’s hold and his eyes scrunched shut tighter. “Five more minutes mistress,” he murmured sleepily against the young man’s collar, nuzzling and furling closer to him, lazily looping his arms around Ciel’s neck and letting his legs dangle as he was carried comfortably. He wasn’t willing to return to wakefulness just yet, though he could feel the steady pulse of the soul inside Ciel, instinctively aware that it was changing, taking form now. She was more than just a hope; she was alive and he hugged Ciel tighter.

Sebastian snorted softly as he followed a pace or two behind his mate, slanting his gaze at his uncle when the elder being clapped him on the shoulder and grinned broadly, a knowing glint in the vibrant meadow moss of his eyes. Maltheal’s mate bypassed the both of them to flank Ciel’s other side, a number of his serpents peering out with curious concern from within the confines of his clothing while he kept pace with the young man. Their party rounded the end of the hall and proceeded up the narrow stone steps towards the upper floor where no doubt his kin would ambush them again. Belial would not have given up so easily and he was certain that Lucifer would not waste such an opportunity himself. 

Garnet cat’s eyes flickered to his mate’s back, meeting those of his familiar briefly before they turned back to Maltheal and the Fallen murmured too quiet for his mortal mate’s ears, “If I should be unable… You’ll see to their safety and passage _home_ , won’t you? You and yours are welcome there as well. I know now why you wanted some of my roses and the gift you swindled out of my mate. That was meant for his protection.”

Maltheal chuckled breathily, “Ay, but th’ road ta redemption is a long an’ painful un an’ ya well know wha’ kinda profound sacrifice mus’ be made.” His eyes glittered through the veil of pale lashes as he looked at Sebastian.

Sebastian broke away first, his eyes drawn back to his lover’s nape where his marks stood out proudly in stark red-violet contrast against the otherwise unblemished and milky flesh. His voice was quiet, but sure, “I know.”

Though the devotion, reverence, and adoration that echoed through their bond at present was both intense and sustaining, it still could not mask Sebastian’s foreboding disquiet. Ciel knew his mate was worried about his safety, that if he hadn’t seen flashes of lover’s former demise first hand, he had no doubt felt it when he had found him. He was fairly certain now that Sebastian did not remember their former life together and for that he was grateful. Ciel was able to recall with perfect clarity what it had felt like to die; to no longer be able to position his lips to sooth his child, to have her disappear from his sight as darkness veiled his eyes, to be deafened to her cries, to become numb to her and to draw that last shuddering breath. And having experienced it, he would gladly bear that pain a thousand times over because he was selfish enough to not want to witness his beloved fade from existence. There could be no worse fate. 

Three serpents fled from the hybrid as they surfaced from the steep stone steps and yet the nephilim's malachite-slitted eyes could only spare a glance to read the intense consternation written on Ciel’s face. He placed a hesitant hand on the small of the mortal’s back, and sensed the added weight of new life and chagrin both stirring within. His own opalescent, leathery wings snapped open in wide, protective arcs overhead, ready shields for Christ’s heir should they run into his kin. “I am sorry I was not able to come find you sooner, that you suffered terribly,” he hissed lowly, pulling Ciel closer to himself. The words were stilted and dripping with regret as they fell from his forked tongue; so desperate was he to tell the small mortal that it had been necessary, that he would one day understand. 

“Everything for a reason; I wouldn’t have remembered her had I not...” Ciel trailed off, taken aback by the hybrid’s tone of contrition. Surely, Snake was not to blame. He’d not ordered the coup against he and the familiar, but Ciel could not say more; he was afraid he would trigger Sebastian into remembering and now was not the time. Even so, he felt possessive garnet eyes lingering on his back; undoubtedly, his mate was listening to every one of his words, every single heartbeat, tasting the air for any sign of distress, holding him, caressing him still through their bond. Quite abruptly, Ciel could no longer be kept from him. He ached for Sebastian. To touch him and be sure he was real. Poe must have felt it too because he let himself be lowered soundlessly to the marbled floor before Ciel turned on his heel and crushed his body against the demon, his hands gripping his lover, trying to find purchase in the tightly woven fabric so that he would not have to let him go. Nestled between them, their miracle pulsed contentedly as though it had been her doing all along.

Snake’s anguish was noticeable by none, except for possibly his mate as he shifted uncomfortably at the sight of the lovers. His eyes flashed to Maltheal, widening and begging him not to allow any more hurt to befall the mortal boy. The hybrid was devastated already and could barely help himself when he extended an arm, his curved chrome-lacquered claws hovering just over Ciel’s shoulder. _Everything for a reason,_ his friend had said; “Please try to remember that when…” he half-whispered to Ciel as his head whipped around and he took on a defensive crouch before the exorcist. Emily, Donne and Keats hissed their way back to him, the smallest and most lethal of the two following silent orders and slithering up the mortal to wrap itself vigilantly around his arm and shoulder. 

Sebastian had opened his arms to Ciel before the young man had even turned to desperately fall into them. He crooned lowly, fingers caressing through Ciel’s hair as he kissed the crown of his head, the petals of the roses surrounding it tickling his chin affectionately. He held him for moments that promised eternities inside them, but slipped by too soon. He met Snake’s eyes for the briefest of seconds when the nephilim reached for Ciel’s shoulder, but just as quickly did they shift when the hybrid’s did. 

He let go his mate abruptly as the tiny serpent slithered its way up Ciel’s body to tightly wind itself around his bicep, and the Fallen’s gaze became slitted and predatory, clawed fingers poised as he fell into a defensive position. He heard his uncle click his tongue accompanied by the whisper of his scythe as it unsheathed itself from his body and Sebastian knew it had settled familiarly in the elder being’s grip when the scolding click turned to a sighed hum. It was perhaps no more than a breath later that they were assaulted. Lesser demons flooded in from all available entrances, filling the air with noxious sulfuric fumes, their forms distorted and disfigured as was so common of them, ugly as the screeching and snarling gurgling noises that left their mouths. And for every one his talons sheared through and claimed, ten more seemed to stuff themselves into the vaulted hall. 

He attempted to remain as close as possible to his mate, protecting him as his familiar took up position on the young man’s other side and his uncle’s lover defended him head on, but as more of the creatures crawled the walls and arched ceilings, he was drawn away. Maltheal’s scythe flattened large swaths of the lesser fiends as the God grinned and flickered between them, sending them into a frenzied half panicked bloodlust. And these were only Belial’s reserves.

Hell. Just like that, Ciel watched on as the Vatican had literally turned into Hell on Earth. Blood that fumed upon being spilt coated the walls and floors as cadaverous and ungodly creations assaulted them in swarms by the hundreds. Their bodies slid languidly against the frescos of the vaulted ceilings, causing the figures to weep and drip acerbic soot-lustered tears among the holy battleground. To his credit, Poe was small enough to glide through most of the carnage, even as the lesser demons pushed over the large stone statues of sanctified figures from their high perches. He dodged them with some effort, and whipped his tail with precision and brute ferocity to shatter them to dust before they could harm his brood below. 

Ciel had been to slow to react at first, his weak human ears had failed to pick up on the whispering threads of darkness encroaching on them, but as soon as his companions were set in motion, so was he. Not being as indestructible as the nephilim, he took cover behind him, using small practiced hands to draw in a variety of fiends, beckoning them closer and watching gleefully as they were unable to resist the lure of his divinity, like starving vultures to carrion. Their distorted faces screamed their protests, and yet their spasming, shapeless forms and essences were loathe to deny him. Once sufficiently ensnared, they were crushed by and kept in Snake’s mouth by lethal rear-facing fangs until they were spat upon their oncoming brethren in masticated chunks. 

Still, they were no nearer to leaving the inner sanctum of the Holy Trove with the constant influx of minions crashing through the elaborate rose windows and stained glass; at this rate, they would be buried by their sheer numbers. And if Sebastian was correct in his assumption that Lucifer would be in attendance, he would no doubt bring a legion of his own. 

Back and back, he and Snake were pushed away from their mates; Poe not leaving him, still circling overhead, no doubt by Sebastian’s command. His heels met the giant pillar adjacent to a long hallway that was fit to burst with the infernal beasts. They advanced like night annexing the day, unrelenting and unstoppable in their force. Snake had him pinned, taking the claws and fangs that were meant for him, while his lovelies slithered over his small breakable body and took the brunt of the attacks from either side. But just as night cannot obscure the stars, so too could the unimaginable number of demons not completely cloak the flicker of brightest crimson in their midst. 

“Belial!!!” Snake heard Ciel’s enraged scream, splitting the din and silencing the room for microseconds. He felt the small body behind him quiver with indignation and righteousness. The raw energy that hummed through the mortal was nearly magnetic and forced him to tear his gaze away from forthcoming kin in time to see seeing indigo flames charged with silver scintillations conjured from Ciel’s hands and blending seamlessly into a single blast, erupting from his palms and shooting towards the hoard and the flash of red amongst them. They staggered back as a result and watched as the dark entities became great bubbling masses against the marble; the intensity of the heat rising as the flames rolled and flowed through the hallway like an angry sea, then parted down the middle to leave the path clear for…

“No! Ciel!” Snake yelled after him, trying to be heard above the babel of dying shadows and the sounds of squelching disembodiment that echoed in the vaulted room. He saw him pushing through the hoard only a moment before another blast sent them away from his person, then fell in behind him, following his sprinting figure either out of hunger or devout fear. 

Sebastian heard his lover’s name over the static din of the roiling squirmish and he attempted to follow after, but it was as if their enemies had shifted their focus to he and his uncle. As they were assaulted anew by thick swarms, a path was inherently parted for his mate as he pursued the elder demon.

Unseen was the twisted grin on Belial’s lips as he drew the little lord away from the rest of his protectors, only his stubborn little brother remained with him, not that the redhead was concerned. He whirled on the two of them, shielding himself with his own thick aura, pushed back some feet by the onslaught of righteous holy energy that preceded the mortal. It seemed he had recovered and acquired some reserve of strength he’d not had previously. How precious…

He grinned toothily at the pair, brushing back crimson locks from his face nonchalantly as he lowered his lashes coyly over poisonous green depths. “You’ll have to forgive me, I wasn’t expecting you _little brother_ along with my company. I’ll admit, I thought you were dead… Or at least I hoped you were. What a shame. You always did have a soft spot for vermin, so I can’t say I’m surprised,” he drawled as he looked over Snake contemptuously.

As Belial was momentarily distracted by Snake’s presence, Ciel used the horde of lesser demons that had pursued him to his advantage, manipulating their obvious misgivings and terror of the divinity he was exuding and forcing an abrupt reversal of their allegiance. It was a simple choice made under the presumption that they would suffer less by doing the bidding of Christ’s revenant instead of their former master’s. It also did not hurt that their serpent-laden brethren was unswerving in his devotion to the little mortal and should they cross the nephilim, surely his mate would want retribution. True the spawn of Satan’s aura was robust, but with the infernal numbers that had followed in Ciel’s wake, he was swiftly and decidedly overtaken. They came upon him most forcefully, some crawling along the walls, others skittering in short bursts of flickering darkness, while many fell from the ceiling, eclipsing whatever auric clout the elder demon had boasted. Before Ciel could even blink, the fiends had consumed Belial’s protective barrier, licking at it, then stuffing whatever they could into their disgustingly deformed maws, throwing greedy and sated orgiastic echoes into the vaulted room just beyond the hallway. 

Once done, they held the redhead fast and refused to let him go, waiting for the small mortal’s next command. They did not need to wait long, Ciel was anxious to get back to Sebastian and to their _home_ , “Suspend _it_ from the wall,” he told them in an unequivocally bored tone and the darkness pinned him nice and tight as though crucified on his own cross, against the mural of Adam accepting the apple offered by Eve. How fitting that Belial should be kept company by the memory of his father’s greatest accomplishment as he neared his end. It would be the only kindness he would be given. 

But it was still wrong. “Snake is no longer _your_ brother, he is _mine_. You’re not worthy of him, or of Asmodeus.”

Snake looked on, serpent slits flickering under heavy lids as he both felt and heard Ciel’s proclamation. A sinister smile crept onto his face as he approached his father’s _real_ abomination, clawed hands before him, curving as though he were holding some of Ciel’s divinity within them. He’d never wielded his own angelic energy before, but now that he cradled it within his grasp, he thoroughly enjoyed it. He felt it ripple through his body, saw his lovelies shiver pleasantly against him and gave a quick flick of his wrist, turning the spitting, hissing form of his brother over so that he took on the shape of an inverted cross. “That’s better,” he heard the mortal smirk as he saw him approach the demon and set his foot upon the redhead’s exposed throat. 

Belial choked and snarled, clawed fingers curling viciously, but unable to lash out, pinned as they were beneath the weight of the mortal’s reinforced divinity. He had underestimated him, had neglected to see, had deluded himself about the depth of Asmodeus’ devotion to the fragile little thing and how it would bolster the power inside him. But it was too late. He could do nothing as the young man’s booted foot pressed against his throat threateningly.

“Even if you gain, you’ll lose…” Belial rasped hoarsely, baring his fangs viciously and struggling futilely against the restraining power and laughed a dark simpering sound as he sensed the approaching presence of his allied kin, “You’re damned little thief. You always have been…”

“My God, you _do_ love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Ciel sneered, cocking his head to look beyond his boot at the demon, then nodding towards Snake with a malicious glint in his too bright eyes. He tapped his own lips with his finger and the hybrid smirked, understanding what it was Ciel wanted. 

“I want to help too,” Snake heard Asmodeus’ little familiar lament, as his small childish feet fell into step with his own. There was a loud resounding crunch as the hybrid’s tail lashed viciously against his half-brother’s mouth, shattering the pointed teeth that made up his self-satisfied grin. He plunged the muscular barbed appendage into the high devil’s gash of a mouth, the hardened scale brushing abrasively against the redhead’s gums and clearing away any dental debris. He noticed the small mortal look away a moment, but did not feel any wavering or hesitancy in his resolve, while Poe simply clapped his hands happily and rocked on the balls of his feet waiting. The hybrid took his little hand and brought it over to the roof of Belial’s mouth, silently instructing him to grab hold and pull upwards without breaking the jaw. For his part, Snake merely pushed down on the lower, keeping the mouth wide open; and if it gave a little and cracked under the pressure some, he barely noticed. 

“Now, what was that about a makeover?” Ciel asked getting to his knees before the inverted demon as he bounced a little blazing ball of incandescent, white heat in his palm, “Right… since your best attribute is your silence, let's accentuate it, shall we?” The fire was poured into the gaping mouth and moved with sluggish viscosity to prolong the torment, sloshing about and filling every available surface and crevice, eating and burning away at the rippled flesh as though the fire was acid. 

“There now. I have some things to tell you before I feed you to my _brother_ and I don’t need you interrupting,” Ciel briefed Belial as Snake moved aside to give him better access to the writhing, struggling form against the wall, while Poe wound his hands in the crimson locks, driving him back roughly and crumbling the plaster behind it. Once the demon’s head was steadied by the familiar, Ciel found the heir of Satan’s tightly pinched eyes and pressed the heels of his hands into them, scorching the green orbs under their lids and causing verdant-blackened vapour to permeate from them. Having reduced Belial’s senses to merely hearing his voice and smelling his own scalded flesh, the mortal leaned in next to his pointed ear and whispered the words of love and devotion that had often fallen from Asmodeus’ lips, relaying to the demon what it was that he had missed out on. 

One of his small hands ghosted to the toothless mouth and plundered it harshly, tearing the corners as he called forth the ebonized spectre at Belial’s core. He coaxed it out bit by bit and took the time to describe, in vivid detail, the way in which his mate loved to rile him, how he stroked and kissed him and laved every inch of his body with divine damnation. The mass of starved sin at the Prince’s core throbbed and hitched like a reluctant sob, shuddering as it loosened itself. Ciel’s finger beckoned it, brushing the burned, grooved palate of the demon’s mouth as he continued to depict the searing stretch of being impaled by Asmodeus’ thickly ridged demonhood, the privilege of being filled by him, the sounds their bodies made together and the ones his mate made the closer he was to reaching his peak. It was as he crooned about the way his lover’s claim felt, both warm and sweet within and on his skin that thorny tendrils wound themselves unwillingly around his fingers and Belial’s oily, tar-like tears ran down into his crimson hair and dripped onto the floor. 

“Come,” Ciel whispered kindly to the nephilim as he pulled out the dark, clouded mass from the now listless orifice, pulling it from between barely parted lips. He watched as Snake’s tongue poked out, tasting the air and gave a contented whine. The hybrid’s mouth took on a more reptilian appearance as the extra bone and skin allowed his jaw to separate unnaturally, detaching in the middle and facilitating each side to move independently, readying itself for such a large, albeit welcomed bulk. A pleased groan reverberated in the nephilim’s heaving chest as he drew in the dense mass, back-facing teeth keeping it from escaping as it passed through the cavity and into his throat, stretching and accommodating, pushing it down with his spine and peristaltic ribs until it settled satisfyingly in his stomach. 

Once Snake gave an appeased and grateful sigh, Ciel engulfed the limp form of the former Prince of Hell, as well as all those who clung to him or had once been under his command in in a flugent blaze, letting them perish in a blast of Holy fire as he and his companions made their way back to the vaulted room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  


	43. Damnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: Don't fear the reaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with us. This chapter was difficult to write, but we hope you like it nonetheless. 
> 
> _**Music**_  
>  Sebastian~ [ Fuck U by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqu-D8HwrMY) [ Soulmates Never Die also by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5tTEGxSZs5c&index=88&list=PLdugtpf4nXUtTjtO8cK1Uy5NqKedS_HmL) [ Epiphany by Staind](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8cEzdjLn60)  
> Ciel~ [Who Wants to Live Forever? By Breaking Benjamin (Queen Cover)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plgH1J1kTgI)[C’est la Mort by The Civil Wars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z50k367WgPs) [My Love by Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtM_cc4SPJI)

Sebastian could taste it, the exultant sweet triumph of vengeance exacted, ruthless in its vindication and delicious on the palette. Ciel had no doubt succeeded and his divinity crackled in the air like static electricity, lingering and lashing out at any dark entities in his mate’s vicinity. He smiled, pride warm and thick in his chest and flooding through their bond with thrumming pleasure. Though he could not see his lover through the din, he could feel him, so pure, bright and blue, breathtaking.

But he did not get to spend as much time as he’d have liked revelling in it or being able to properly congratulate his lover as true chaos found them. In light of Belial’s demise, his minions lashed out confusedly, frenzied with bloodlust and fear, some even attacking their own cohort, swayed by Ciel’s influence. Sebastian was alternating between air and ground assaults, weaving between Undertaker’s arcing strikes to make his own, mercilessly destroying his lesser kin that seemed to come in endless droves. 

Finally, the numbers seemed to be thinning, ash thick in the air from the dissipating corpses, reapers creeping in to clear up the souls that were salvageable from the possessed. It was almost quiet then, sound muffled and muted, slowed as if submerged in viscous ether. And like the eye of a storm, it was calm and then it wasn’t. Lucifer made his entrance with all the glorious showmanship and grace that came so naturally to the Prince of Pride, strolling in on the rolling crack of thunder that preceded each smoldering step he took. And the hush that had settled became a rushing roar as he bowed to his audience and opened his arms to them with a sharp and sinisterly self-satisfied grin, ushering in his relative army. They swarmed in like the roiling waves of the ocean’s tide, crushing and suffocating and Sebastian lost sight of his lover again, but suddenly desperate to relocate him. If Lucifer had arrived, his mate was no doubt lurking nearby and from the vague hum resonating beneath the bray of renewed battle, he’d reunited with his beloved weapon; it was too dangerous to remain away from Ciel.

At first, Ciel was convinced that it had been part of Lucifer’s thunderous fanfare, but soon the vicious growls and snarling barks of something much too large had announced what the mortal already knew: All Hell had broken loose. If the massive multi-headed hounds were here, tethered to thick, charred leashes and barely held back by the possessed clergymen Lucifer now counted as his mercenaries, then they were not guarding the Gates of the Underworld; that meant the door had been left open for all to follow. 

Naked panic widened Ciel’s unblinking eyes as they flickered from where his mate had been only moments ago to the throng of demons under his own command being decimated by the beasts. One of them sprang forward, feet from him and viciously tore the spine out from the nape of some unknown hellion’s neck. The cur’s satisfied, baleful snarl drowned out the crunch of spinal cartilage and bone beneath the power of its canine jaws. 

“We need to get you to Asmodeus!” Snake shouted to the small mortal, having used his tail to wind itself around the neck at the center of the hound and strangle it until it fell clean off with minimal effort on his behalf. The remaining heads thought it best to retreat and it staggered back, growling, its tail between its legs, rearing in agony. His strength had increased tenfold since ingesting his half-brother, but it would do nothing to save Ciel. The stage was set. The end was near. 

“I know! We keep getting separated!” Ciel yelled his reply as he winced at the sight of the fiends he’d bedeviled getting chased and torn to pieces by Cerberus’ offspring. He could barely hear himself over the sound of screeching and yelping and yet he could make out a leisurely, throaty chuckle like it was an echo in his mind alone. He locked eyes with Lucifer’s depthless lavender pools and seethed at the unconcealed pleasure and mirth they held as he leaned placidly against a marble pillar, grinning patiently amidst the chaos and reveling in it. 

But Ciel was not willing to endure the loss of more time. He was done with delays. He had plans and a future and he would wait no more for it after being denied once already. Having studied several times at the Vatican, the exorcist knew their present location well enough that he was aware of the _chi-rho_ symbol etched into the solid floor beneath his feet. It had been meant to represent the coming of Christ and his subsequent resurrection; for Ciel, it was nothing but a perfect circle in which to imprison his foes. He took a knee, making sure Snake and Poe were flanking him, and as Vincent had taught him all those months ago, he bled onto the Greek _X_ that spanned the ancient ecclesiastic emblem. Flames of blinding white erupted along their perimeter, rising up in rings to reach the summit as he got to his feet again, guiding them to arch overhead to form a dome, effectively trapping the hellish fiends on the inside and denying access to those on the outside. If they wished to leave, they would perish in the fire; if they stayed, they would equally meet their end either by Undertaker’s scythe, his lover’s ferocious protectiveness or Snake’s vicious assaults. He winked cockily in Pride’s direction and felt the floor shake under his feet. 

Sensing his lover’s urgency, Michael split the deistic circle in great wide bolgias, leaving whatever surface intact to act as bridges between them. Many of his lover’s kin fell among the stony ditches and into the clutches of those who’d perverted God’s laws to be ripped to tatters and scraps. He was hard pressed to care; the less of them to plague the world, the better. And the divine searing light could not hold back his Heavenly Host; they penetrated the heat as though it were nothing, taking up a regimented formation behind him, snowy wings arched, high and proud as he set his sight on the abomination. 

Sebastian was close, so close to reaching his mate. Mere meters separated him from Ciel, but he could not cross them as he veered to intercept the Archangel that had turned his attention to the young man as well. Charcoal lacquered claws clashed with the holy blade, sending a spray of blinding sparks arcing through the spaces between the two beings as he engaged his over-righteous elder brother, drawing his attention away from his lover. He was spurred on by the desperate aching turmoil of betrayal, hurt, anguish and rage that had surfaced every time he had thought about Michael in any capacity since Ciel had become a part of his existence. His fangs were bared viciously and a snarl paced behind them, unable to resist the instinctive and familiar desire to tear the Angel apart ruthlessly, mercilessly for reasons he still could not quite fathom, but knew were justifiable of his bloodthirsty rancor. Michael deserved his wrath, deserved his vengeance. His aura spiked dangerously as he thrust the blade tip harshly off course and lashed out at the Archangel challengingly. 

Though the sword stood as tall as the Archangel, he wielded it with effortless precision and force. God’s knight kept a steady hand on his weapon, lunging towards his Fallen kin with all the smugness and disdain his position afforded him. Neither backed down, each strike was faster and stronger than the last. “Come now, Asmodeus, you should have learned your lesson,” Michael condescended as he parried a blow and redirected his energy to muscle past the demon and close the distance between he and the shameful, pathetic little thing his brother had tethered his existence to. “You were destined for so much more than siring another filthy, worthless half-breed,” he spat eying the abomination who helped defend Christ’s heir by breaking his comrades and throwing them off the stony parapet and into the abyss. “Father would be so disappointed… again.” 

Sebastian’s lip curled in a decidedly disdainful sneer, swift tendrils of his shadowed power giving chase to Michael’s, impacting viciously and sending a hot spray of embers over a number of their brethren. “The sentiment would be mutual, I can assure you brother. And what would you know of destiny when you are blinded by your own arrogance? So righteous, you can’t even see how your mate manipulates you,” he replied scathingly, the words spilled like venom from his tongue as the rage in him surged under his skin, pulsing through his veins and in the bond he shared with Ciel. It was only rising further with every inflammatory word his brother uttered and the vague sparks of recollection that followed them.

Michael scoffed as his booted foot drove into his brother’s chest, kicking him blindly and lobbing him some distance away, pulverizing the marble pillar where he collided. The Archangel chased him, nary a breath behind, raised his muscular arms overhead, and brought the weapon down swiftly, cutting the air with a whir and feeling a pleasant jolt as it sliced through the bone and viscera of the last few remaining hell-bound abominations. Their wispy ashen tendrils concealed his sight for merely a second, allowing his Fallen foe to evade him but not without shaving a few feathers off Asmodeus’ ebony, blood-laden feathered appendages. The stony structure did not recover as the demon had, instead, it toppled, causing the part of of the ceiling it supported to collapse onto some of his angelic host; but he would not be swayed, he was indifferent to their pleas and cries. “Lucifer and I share a common goal. I am willingly manipulated by him, as I am our Father. You will never know such divine loyalty, so long as you find _love_ in gutters, Asmodeus.” His head whipped to his left where his brother’s miserable wretch stood, brow furrowed with indecisiveness, as though he were contemplating joining their _danse macabre_. Michael gave him a half-smirk, “Come rescue your mate, little hairless ape. My blade has missed you and has a need to be dirtied with your blood once more.” Then he turned to Sebastian, “Will you bear witness this time, brother? Or have you another lover again?”

Flickers of grief and betrayed anguish accompanied by the vague echo of screams and crashing of thunder and red; not just red, but the red that was so deep and liquid that it could only be sanguine, iron and bittersweet divinity on his palette in memory that was no doubt his own. He could see no details in the recollection, no corporeal images, but he _knew_... 

Vengeful bloodlust shuddered under his skin and his claws clashed with Michael’s sword again, the sound piercing and more smoldering embers and sparks flew and then they were locked together, close enough to stare into the other’s eyes. “How naive you are brother. You have been taken by your mate’s manipulations so easily. Humanity may be fallible, fickle and frivolous on occasion, but they are capable of such loyalty, compassion and _love_ like we can never know. They, unlike us who were born without, were gifted that which makes them what they are, a soul. You say they are unworthy, undeserving, and incompetent, but it is you who does not understand and it is your mistake to underestimate their potential. My mate is human; there will be no others in this life or any other and you will not take him or the most precious gift inside him from me again. Are you so afraid of her Michael? Or is it Envy that burdens you so?” His words were quiet, rough and deep in his throat, a feral quality to them as he broke away from Michael only to clash together again seconds later.

They seemed evenly matched much to the the Archangel’s displeasure. Asmodeus was not so weak as he had once been. Without a distraction, they may well remain in a standoff. It was only for a moment, the briefest shift; crystalline glacial blue met lavender and were away just as swiftly. Michael smiled and thrust away from Sebastian once again as Lucifer swooped in upon Ciel, evading his protectors as his minions flooded around them so that he could take the boy hostage. 

He hadn't meant to do it; the last thing Ciel wanted was to distract his mate. All it would take is a single misstep, a momentary hesitation and Michael would be upon Sebastian. But the power that had surged without his consent when Lucifer had pinned his arms, was echoed too loudly in their bond for either of them to ignore. _No… don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,_ he begged through their connection, unable to see anyone through the misted cloud of violaceous tendrils Lucifer’s sycophants had conjured to obscure him from view. 

Sebastian tried to resist, but the pull of his concern was too great. Even as Ciel begged him not to, his gaze turned toward him, just for a moment, just long enough for Michael to make his move. He lunged at the Fallen, only to feint left and veer off towards the captive young man. It happened so fast and the desperation, the potent and ferocious need to protect that which was most precious too great to be ignored, panicked in its need and unrelenting. He’d always been fast, agile and graceful, but the speed at which he moved was impressive. He thrust his aura forward in a rushed blast, the force of his power and his absolute need to keep his mate and the beautiful little light pulsing inside him was overwhelming, forcing Lucifer to abandon his grip on the young man as he was thrown back into the far wall a number of meters away from them with a thunderous crash echoing the feral roar that had spilled from his lips. 

He reached Ciel just before Micheal, mere seconds, had his hands on his mate for fewer than even that, tender-firm as he held him, was assured he had made it in time and knew before he even felt the frigid searing of the blade in his back that the sacrifice was worth it. It would always be worth it. Ciel was everything and he was proud when he let him go, pushed him out of the way of any second-hand harm and took the blow meant for him, took the pain and the blood and every aching inch of the holy blade until it had protruded through his chest. But there was no regret, only devotion in his eyes and a smile on his blood stained mouth. He’d made it this time. Ciel was safe and his uncle would keep his word.

Michael’s malicious chuckle sounded as a pained sound echoed from Poe as the familiar crumpled some feet behind Ciel where he had been trying to reach him and he twisted the sword dispassionately, leaning in to whisper next to Sebastian’s ear, “How will you stop us from taking him if we take you from him first foolish little brother. You are right though, there will be no others in this life or any other. I am not without mercy though. I’ll end them swiftly, you have my--”

“Tha’s quite ‘nough now Michael,” Maltheal’s voice cut in as his scythe came to rest threateningly against the Archangel’s throat, close enough to kiss the skin and burn, “I’s ‘bout time yer mate an’ yerself atone fer th’ pain ya’ve caused an’ I know jus’ th’ penance fer ya both. A thousand thousand years in me dungeon ought ta do ta start,” he finished, his own power encompassing and subduing all others, compelling Michael and his mate and all the other lingering fiends, bending them to his will and forcibly confining them. And as the Archangel bowed to the God’s superior power, the sword slid free of Sebastian’s body, his wings shuddering before he crumpled under their heavy weight to the blood stained and unforgiving stone before his mate. Maltheal spared the boy and his nephew a sympathetic glance before he snapped his fingers, Michael, Lucifer and himself winking from existence to carry out the punishment before either of his wayward kin could escape him. It had been necessary, but it was high time they paid for their sins; it was time things were set right, no matter the sorrow.

The exorcist’s eyes were wide with alarmed disbelief as he looked upon Sebastian, his first friend and confidant, his lover, his husband, his soulmate, his _everything_. Ciel was breathing _hard_ , trying not to panic, but it did not stop the prolonged silent scream from ripping through their bond as the demon fell onto him. As Sebastian’s body went limp and boneless against his own, he was reminded of all those months ago, when his lover had absorbed Belphegor, but this time, he felt heavier. Much heavier. Like _dead weight_. No matter, he told himself, he could fix this. He had fixed it before. 

“Sh-shhhh…” he stuttered between gritted teeth, trying to retain his composure for Sebastian’s sake as he snaked a hand between them to assess the damage. He winced when he felt it. He _knew_ , he didn’t even have to see it to know; his hand was soaked, it would likely fit in the… He shook his head and reassured his lover, “It’s okay… It’s going to be fine…” He lowered Sebastian to the stained marble floor between two gaps leading to the Underworld that were the only evidence left of Michael’s destruction other than the blow his mate had selflessly absorbed for him. For Aurora.

In the absence of demons and angels, fiends and friends, there was no sound save for Sebastian’s slowing heart and his own racing one. Using the demon’s sharp lacquered claws, Ciel tore into his own clothes letting great scraps of it fall to floor as they cut into his skin. He could feel the spasming of his lover’s fingers in his hands and he squeezed them to let Sebastian know he was there. “Here love,” he said, bending forward and putting his freshly lacerated and hemorrhaging palm just over his spouse’s mouth and whispering in his ear as the bond between them became murky again, “drink.” He waited less than three seconds, and when he didn’t feel Sebastian’s tongue move against his skin he sat up and forced his divine blood onto his mate, making a tight fist so it would rain down onto parted lips. He could see them vaguely tremble as a shade of purplish blue began to colour them, but still, Sebastian made no move to taste him as he usually did. With a rush of frenzied terror, Ciel beat down on Sebastian’s chest once, “Drink Goddamn you! Please Sebastian! Please! Take it! Why aren’t you taking it?” He brought the gash to his own mouth and pulled in a mouthful of the crimson liquid; and as Asmodeus had done to save him previously, so did the small mortal try to give the kiss of life to his mate, only to have the demon’s lips close against his own, spoiling his help. “Fuck, Sebastian! I’m ordering you to drink of me! Heal yourself! Do it now! Stop this!” His words came out in pathetic, low hiccuping sobs as they escaped him. 

Ciel could still feel the inconsistent thumping of Sebastian’s heart as he lay over him; it beat once, twice, then stopped only to start again moments later, thumping another four palpitations, weaker this time, yet not as feeble as the bond between them. _Don’t leave me, not again. You promised,_ he begged desperately but with a soft keening whine finally breaking through his hopeful facade. He pulled the fabric away from Sebastian’s neck and pressed his lips at the base before biting him with a force that caused his teeth to tear through the cooling flesh with ease. _Can you feel me still? I’m losing you… love.. I can barely feel you anymore…_ His knees slipped and slid against the pooling blood that accumulated under his lover as his own _protective_ wear became soiled and sodden. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t be deterred. His hands fisted tightly around mate’s ravaged shirt as he sank his teeth into him again and again, trying to force the bond between them open once more.

Sebastian’s lashes fluttered open and trembled as if they wanted to close again, but he forced them to remain open; he did not want to miss any moments not looking at his beautiful mate. Ciel was so precious. He could feel his energy waning, a strange heaviness spreading through him as warmth fled his body, chased off by the poison of the holy blade. His wounds would not heal, only God could mend them now. He let out a shuddering breath as his false heart stuttered to a halt again, unable to keep up the guise as his energy waned.

He reached up with a pale, blood-speckled hand to cup Ciel’s cheek tenderly, fingers trembling weakly with the effort as he touched at his mate’s soft, warm and tear-streaked skin, the contract on the back fading fast as was the matching symbol in his mate’s eye. He knew he was dying; soon it would be over, but feeling the warmth and the pulse of life inside Ciel, he could not regret the choice he’d made. “Shh, it’s alright my darling… It’s alright. I made it this time. You are safe. Don’t cry,” his other hand settled gently against Ciel’s belly, palming over the life within as his lashes closed and sluggishly opened once again, stubborn to remain on Ciel until the last, “Soulmates never die.” He swallowed hard, the taste of his own blood and the remnants of his divine mate’s on his tongue bittersweet and aching and his vision became cloudy, darkened by sooty tendrils as the end crept in. His fingers spasmed ever so subtly against his lover’s flesh and he forced the last words past his lips, a final necessary breath to whisper his final prayer, “Live and be free precious. I love you, both of you.” His hands went slack as the last word left his pale lips and garnet eyes drifted closed for one last time as the sound of silence overtook him. 

“T’s time,” came the quiet voice of Undertaker as he stepped forward, scythe humming in hand, the other reaching for his nephew.

Ciel’s head shook frantically as he continued to beg through their bond, _Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave **us**_ ; but as Sebastian’s hand fell, the mortal’s words echoed in his own mind, having nowhere else to go. It was a lonely, desolate sound, resembling the empty reverberations of a scream in a vast, unfurnished room of an abandoned home. 

Ciel somehow managed to pull his slain lover into his arms, sitting him up and wrapping both arms around him tightly, crushing him to his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs, like a prisoner intent to break out of their cage and the absence of the devil’s familiar, false heartbeat was replaced with his daughters’ real, unmistakable one. “I love you! Sebastian, I love you. Please don’t do this! It’s not supposed to be you!” And as he said it, the gravity of the situation hit him. Angels and demons had no soul. They could not be reborn, as he had been. _This_ was the end of their story. 

Renewed, anguished laments and utterances broke from Ciel as the tears fell in endless streams, mingling with the lifeless body he clung onto like salvation. “All my fault. All my fault,” he repeated against Sebastian’s cheek, “Forgive me, love. All my fault. Should have gone _home_. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He saw Snake crouch down, extending a clawed hand towards him in an attempt to comfort him. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of his friend’s slitted, doleful eyes, and the silent tears that spilled from them, landing with a sound of broken glass as they turned into opals mid-fall and shattered against the ground. But this was not the friend whose solace he craved. Where was Poe? Why wasn’t he here?

All at once, Ciel’s agony turned to rage as his eyes locked on Undertaker’s. “You!” he bellowed, flames bursting around him protectively to try to stop the reaper from coming closer. They crackled angrily, surrounding Ciel and his lover in their own inferno. “You! You made me break my promise to Poe! I told him forever! I didn’t even get to say goodbye! He didn’t get to meet _her_! You could have stopped this! You stopped it when it was convenient for you! I saw you! You’re every bit your brother! Uncaring! Selfish! Manipulative!” Ciel’s eyes flashed as his lips pulled back to show his teeth. He sent a white-hot streak of blinding light towards the ancient being, trying to inflict as much of the pain he was feeling onto the god. “You get that fucking thing away from Sebastian, do you hear me?” He snarled, “You can’t take him! He’s mine! He’s not leaving me!” But as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. Something was happening to his lover’s body, something that all his divinity, all his love and devotion could not stop.

The light bowed and flowed around Maltheal harmlessly, like water breaking around stone, unmovable as the God was. He inclined his head, fathomless forest eyes unwavering, compassionate, but otherwise unreadable as he simply watched the boy, unoffended by the accusations. “Ay lil phantom, I am as ye say, but ‘m not without compassion. Ye cannot see as I can. I’ve been patient, but th’ time fer waiting s’over now,” he answered, voice calm and quiet. 

He crouched down, long, pale fingers reaching out, crooked coaxingly just over the bared nape of his nephew’s neck. “Ya did good boyo, now t’s time ta rest. I’ll not forget me promise,” he murmured with bittersweet fondness, drawing the last lingering threads of his essence from the Fallen. It swirled as it culminated in his palm, the soot clearing and becoming lighter and lighter as the darkness faded from it. The last wisp curled into the writhing ball and he closed his hand around it, absorbing it. And without it, the body in Ciel’s arms began to crumble, turning to ember and ash, falling apart and escaping even as the young man tried to keep hold of it.

Sebastian slipped through Ciel’s fingers, scattering like ash and dust as a breeze found its way through the broken rose window of the vaulted room. His essence softened the angry flames that should have kept him prisoner and tethered to his mate, until they were extinguished altogether, leaving the small mortal in a weeping crumpled heap at the center. His hand extended skywards, capturing the last remnants of his lover in his closed fist, when his heart broke anew. Through the torn portions of his ragged clothing, he saw the runes of love and devotion that had been their vows, Sebastian’s promises, peel themselves from his skin and follow after the one who’d written them. He withdrew his arm like it had been scalded and cradled it to his chest, trying desperately to keep them, concealing them with his other arm, but those too had faded and left his flesh a blank slate. 

“No… no, no, no, no…” He hugged his body, blunt nails digging into his exposed skin as though he could keep the rest. He was mad with grief; screaming and cursing everything in the vicinity. So intense was his tormented suffering that it became corporeal. It left great gashes in his back as if he’d been whipped, tore holes through his wrists and feet and left gouges upon his forehead. Vicious and black and thick like tar, he choked on his grief and from the bolgias, a sinisterly immaculate, angry, blue fire rose and burst through the ceiling, rocks crumbling overhead as the blaze spread throughout the Holy building, destroying everything in its wake. 

Undertaker straightened his posture, watching on as Ciel’s grief overcame him, lashed out with holy fire and broke his flesh with holy wounds, various statues still in tact beginning to weep sapphire tears along with him, sharing in his mourning as it spread in echoing ripples across the planes of the universe. The scent of his blood was heavy and bitter in the air, sick with his anguish and the sight and scent of his own lover’s echoing upset urged him to soothe away the hurts, though he could do nothing. There was the sound of glass shattering beneath the heat and pressure of Ciel’s divine flames along with the thunderous falling of stone. 

“Poppit,” he called over the din, meeting Snake’s slitted and glassy gaze when his mate looked to him and he inclined his head expectantly, “T’s not good for the baby; ‘e needs ta rest ‘fore ‘e brings down th’ ‘ole ceiling on our ‘eds.”

Snake cleared his throat to answer his mate, but found that his empathy for the mortal’s loss had rendered him speechless. He settled for nodding his agreement as he crawled soundlessly over to his friend, his arms surrounding Ciel’s small shuddering frame. This time, there was no resistance; the bereaved’s cries had turned to mournful wails, and renewed the hybrid’s. He hissed something under his breath in a calming, soothing croon as he supported more of the grieving young man’s weight. Following orders from his master, the little serpent, the mortal’s favourite, Donne, wound itself delicately around Ciel’s neck and gave him an understanding nip. No sooner, Ciel collapsed into Snake’s arms, allowing the nephilim to pick him up and cradle him to his chest like a child. Snake’s cheek found the top of Ciel’s head, and he nuzzled the charred locks sympathetically, “Sleep. When you wake, you won’t be alone. You both won’t be alone.” 

“Come Poppit, le’s not linger. Ther’s much to do… Ye’ll watch o’er ‘im, I trust. Mightn’t be able ta join ya fer a while. I ‘ave ta see ‘bout a ‘appy ending,” Maltheal said as he stepped over to his lover, slipping an arm around him as the nephilim held fast to his dear friend. He snapped the fingers of his other hand, opening a portal before them and stepped forward, guiding his burdened mate into the ether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the newest pics I've done, the first two of which are a gift for Chrome for her birthday. And the last which is I suppose a bit of a spoiler, but not really since we all know she's coming, is their daughter Aurora. I'll have one of Poe to add soon as I get one done to match these. They make such a precious little family, don't they? Do Enjoy!
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	44. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral: It's better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! This chapter is longer and probably confusing for some of you, but it's meant to be so consider this your warning. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't read Rockabye, we **strongly** recommend that you do so prior to reading this chapter! Enjoy! 
> 
> Music:  
> Sebastian/Asmodeus~ [ Deep End by Ruelle,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4asmlZFvqA) [ Hurricane by Fleurie,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLSCVIMKTBM) [ Sound of Silence by Disturbed,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9Dg-g7t2l4) [ Loud Like Love by Placebo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pi_AJxsdOKo)
> 
> Ciel~ [Interlude by London Grammar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gB4iD6H7XI)  
> [Heal by Tom Odell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oFeJqnjF3o)[Oblivion by M83](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=822P87a773c) [Oblivion by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZYisBWNtO0) [My Skin by Natalie Merchant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBZKHZq2xhE)

_The cry of a child could be heard throughout the entire Phantomhive manor, the trembling wails echoing through the halls accompanied by the cooing and shushing of the young mother. The toddler was inconsolable, had been for days now. Quivering whines and whimpers when he ran short on breath and shrieking yowls that ricocheted and shattered like shards of glass on stone over and over and over again._

_When the telephone finally rang, Rachel was quick to answer, holding tightly to Ciel on her hip as she secured the receiver between cheek and shoulder. “Vincent, I can’t do this anymore. Please, you must to come home, I haven’t slept in days.” Tears swam in the red-rimmed eyes of the exhausted woman as she supplicated her husband, rocking back and forth trying to console the two year old. “Yes, I know; he **has** seen a doctor,” she snapped, then added, “He keeps touching his chest and saying **‘owwie’** , but they couldn’t find anything on the x-ray or the ultrasound. I don’t know what else to do. Please, Vincent!” She listened a little longer to what the boy’s father had to say, then slammed the phone and burst into tears again. She shouldn’t have expected anything else; Vincent had done the same damned thing this time last year when their son had undergone something similar. _

_Ciel quieted his laments when he heard his mother’s renewed sobs. He knew he was upsetting her, but he simply couldn’t stop. It just hurt so much to be without them. It was an emptiness worse than hunger, an agony worse than limbo. He threw his arms out to her, desperate for more solace, but still couldn’t be placated as she brought him closer to her chest. He stuffed his chubby little fist into his mouth trying to self-soothe, burying his face into his mother’s hair as he whimpered a minute more before the wails started over again._

_He could hear them, but could do nothing. The little boy was not in danger, was not afraid. No, Ciel was simply melancholy, heartbroken even, unable with his limited vocabulary to express the pain that ailed him and so could only howl pitifully while Rachel tried to coax him quiet, sleep-deprived and worn thin as she was. And he who was trapped deep in the bowels of the home could only pace, unable to comfort the babe as he’d have liked, unable to escape the incessant battering of those wretched laments and the smell of the salt from the tears wept by both child and mother, so potent, it burned in his nose. He could do nothing, growling and pacing his frustration, lashing out at his prison futilely._

_Rachel had brought Ciel back to his room, had managed to find the objects he seemed to have an affinity for: a large dark feather he’d found outside and enjoyed being tickled with, his blue butterfly mobile, his small pillow with the silver embroidered roses, among other things. She’d piled them on the floor next to the rocking chair on which she sat, using the pillow to support Ciel’s head as she tried to feed the fussy child a bottle again. He’d refused his solid foods going on two days now, and he looked every bit as forlorn as she felt._

_“Please Sweetheart, you have to…” she begged him. How was he finding the stamina to keep going on this way? She was reaching her breaking point, was ready to leave the child to his crib on his own, lock the door and hide on the other side of the manor, just for some peace and quiet. Just to sleep. If only for ten minutes. Maybe he would choke on his tears? Maybe she could leave him outside just for a moment? It wasn’t winter yet… The quiet would be divine..._

_A strangled, muffled **Mamaaaa** broke through Rachel’s reverie and she looked down at Ciel who was struggling to get out of her grip. She’d all but suffocated him against her chest, unconsciously dug her fingers painfully into his back as she had thought the worst. “Ciel! I’m so sorry! Oh my God, how could I! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry!” she cried, leaning her head against Ciel’s and gave into overwhelming emotion. What kind of mother thought those things? What kind of mother harmed her own child like that? She had no energy left, no will, no ability to do anything for him. She’d failed him. “Please… God… Anyone… Please…” she prayed in a low, hollow, exhausted voice. _

_Sebastian heard it, the apologies, the desperation and guilt in the mother’s strained voice and the begging prayers that followed as the little boy’s tears and her own fell anew, sending a fresh wave of the salinic scent through the home. And somehow, though he could not explain, nor did he care to analyze the stroke of divine luck, his cage unlatched and swung open with a doleful whine. He was out of it in less than seconds and in a blur of motion and whisper of feather, he was in the room with the pair, the door making a soft sound as it closed behind him. He lingered in the shadows, garnet gaze glowing from the darkness, watching restlessly, hands twitching with the desire to take the tiny lord from his mother’s arms, but he did not immediately approach her, waiting for some cue, some acknowledgement that his intrusion was a welcome one. He was not likely to be the one she had been praying for, but he had answered nonetheless._

_Ciel had felt his presence the moment it had entered the room. He would not take the hurt away completely, but he would ease it tremendously. He knew the lullaby. He knew where to touch and caress him tenderly. His large hand would fit over his belly just so to quench the emptiness. The warmth of his mouth against his skin would breathe life back into his pallid flesh. His fingertips would rub soothing circles along his chest and back to ease the scar that had faded from sight but not from existence. The toddler twisted in his mother’s arms, one hand touching her cheek in both forgiveness and understanding to ease her guilt, as the other reached out towards the shadow, little fingers desperately clawing at the distance between them._

_The Fallen broke away from the shadows when Ciel reached for him, his own fingers already outstretched to caress the petite digits that beckoned to him. As he stepped closer, Rachel’s teary cornflower gaze lifted to meet his through her damp-clumped lashes and her lips parted as if she might say something, but no words came out. Ciel was looking at the creature that wore the handsome face of a man, was no longer wailing, his cries tapered to keening whimpers as the devil approached. And he could tell she knew she shouldn’t, that Vincent would be so disappointed in her, but still she held the little boy out to the fiendish being, her wet gaze imploring._

_Sebastian accepted the toddler from his mother’s hold without hesitation, inclining his head in understanding and gratitude as he drew the child against him, cradled Ciel to his breast and began to hum that same soothing lullaby that always came to mind when he wanted to soothe the little thing. A sigh of relief left Rachel’s parted lips as he took possession of her son with no doubt unexpected tenderness. It was perhaps only moments later as Ciel quieted further, soft sniffles and muted whimpers as he was finally consoled and when he glanced at her for only a moment, the mother had closed her eyes as well, finally finding peace and much needed rest. “Shh, there now my darling, no more tears, it’s time for sleeping,” he murmured huskily as he turned away from Rachel’s prone form once again, pressing his lips to the sweaty strands of the little boy’s hair. He carefully thumbed away the tears that clung to Ciel’s flushed cheeks, soothing the pains that lingered in him and settling the turmoil in his precious little soul as only he could._

***

It had been some days since the odd looking man-reptile hybrid had come to them bearing Ciel in his arms. Some days since his friend had even so much as stirred, opened his eyes or wakened from his deep slumber. Some days since he, Agni and Lizzie had demanded to know where Sebastian was and why he wasn't here taking care of the small crumpled form who lay unconscious under the willow tree by the inverted waterfall and they were nowhere nearer to getting any answers. Though, for all he knew, it might have been weeks since they’d come to Eden; the minutes seemed to bleed one into the other in this place.

“Do you think Snake’ll let us see him today?” Soma asked Lizzie as he peered over her shoulder at the hybrid as the former bathed their sleeping friend. They had seen him dive into the lagoon and come out with a fresh, cream coloured sponge, then watched on as he set straight away to work.

Lizzie’s bright blue eyes did not shift from where they were watching Snake sponging Ciel’s skin gently, a melancholy lingering in their depths. She didn’t know for sure, but she suspected that something terrible had happened to Sebastian. Why else would he still not have arrived? He and Ciel had been practically inseparable and now they hadn’t seen him once since the last time when he had brought them to this place. And Ciel wasn’t waking up. He didn’t appear injured, yet he still slept; the only viable reason she could come up with was that he didn’t _want_ to wake up.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly, resting a hand on Soma’s where it rested in his lap, “I hope so, I miss him too…” she paused a moment before she finally looked back at the young man, “Soma do you think… Should we pray?” 

“No,” Soma barked unkindly, then softened his expression in apology. “Everything I've learned is a lie. I refuse to ask _any_ deity for help. And Ciel would be furious if he knew we had prayed on his behalf. You know how he felt about that.”

Agni looked down at his seated lover, wincing at his uncharacteristically harsh tone, then gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. What his prince had discovered about his friend prior to their upheaval had really shaken his faith and once the initial shock of seeing Ciel’s seeming lifeless and battle-ravaged body had worn off, he'd become withdrawn and lost to his own existential angst.

For his part, the khansama had absolutely no qualms with Snake’s curt, abrupt countenance. He admired the way the inhuman being cared diligently for the young man in his lover’s absence and wordlessly assisted him when it seemed necessary. He was rewarded with a silent nod of thanks and a glimpse of Ciel. It seemed it was Soma and Elizabeth’s grief and panic that the hybrid had hoped to shield from Ciel and since he himself had been trained in the art of neutrality, he was able to school his emotions for just such an occasion.

“Patience, my Prince. The young heir will wake soon. I am under the impression that Snake is keeping him asleep to help him cope with his grief. When he does wake, he will need your compassion and the friendship he has come to expect from both of you.”

Lizzie heaved a sad sigh and looked down at her hands, feeling tears burning behind her eyes. “He’s dead isn’t he? Sebastian? He died for Ciel didn’t he?” she asked, her voice quiet and hoarse, so small compared to her usual exuberant and opinionated tones. She knew it already, had suspected since Ciel had returned without him, but for Agni to imply it as well… And she felt guilty because it didn’t come as a surprise to her and she was happy that it had been him and not her beloved cousin, but she was so sad for him. She’d seen how close they were, how Sebastian had looked at him, had spoken to him and knew how devoted he was. She was happy Ciel was alive, but she could hardly fathom how painful it must be for him… To not even want to wake again.

The breeze that brought about the comforting scent of lavender and chamomile that Snake had planted nearby also carried Lizzie’s words. _Stop talking_ , Ciel thought curling into himself a little more, holding his knees to his stomach, _Please, don’t say **his** name_. How was he supposed to face a single day without him? He simply wasn’t ready. Wasn’t numb enough. His eyes welled up with tears again and he pinched them shut, mashing his lips hard together. 

Snake had been gently wetting Ciel’s ashy-blue hair with the sponge when he felt the small body shudder with the sobs the mortal was trying desperately to stifle and the uneven, shaky breaths he was pulling through his nose. “Shhh…” he soothed, his long, cool fingers brushing away the tears that fell along the boy’s cheekbones and into his hair and ears. Large, white wings unfurled and spread thickly to cover Ciel and give him the privacy he needed. Soon he would _choose_ to wake.

***

_He could smell it, the sourness of distressed disgust that permeated his quarters before the upper door even shrieked as it was wrenched open. It shut again just as quickly with a muted groan and there were a few seconds pause before swift and clumsy footfalls came down the stone steps. The scent became stronger, bitter with it on his palette as the young boy came stumbling to his cage, remnants of a too sweet and flowery perfume underlying the sourness of Ciel’s distaste._

_Ciel marched to Sebastian’s cage, wiping his lips repeatedly on the soft long sleeve of his cashmere shirt, spittle flying from his mouth as he tried to expel whatever germs he’d acquired by making that _pbbt_ sound that accompanied sticking out one’s tongue and blowing hard. His nose wrinkled in utter revulsion when he’d pause to look at the petal pink stain he’d smeared upon it and he stomped his foot before the rusted door, commanding his Angel’s full attention. His emotional state was such that it alone granted him entry into the ancient barred enclosure, but he merely stood there, shaking and fuming with his jaw set and his mouth pressed into a thin, offended line. “Girls are gross, Sebastian!”_

_Sebastian cocked a hip, his arms crossed loosely over his midriff and arched one shapely brow in response to the boy’s outburst. “Is that so my darling? And how may I ask did you come by this revelation?” he replied, a note of suspicion and bemusement in his tone._

_“Lizzie kissed me!” he spat, folding his arms over his chest and unconsciously mirroring Sebastian’s cool, calm demeanour, hoping it would rub off on him. It didn’t. “She just… Gah! We were having a picnic by the pond and she told me to close my eyes because she wanted me to try a new chocolate and when I did, she… she... And her breath stinked like strawberries and Mimosa!” When he couldn’t bear to be away from his friend any longer, he pushed the stool up towards the lip of the suspended cage and climbed in. “Kissing is so disgusting, Sebastian. Why do people even do it? It was so gross,” he kept on griping under his breath, then with a bit more fervour added, “No, it was all **wrong**.”_

_The Fallen might have been jealous of the young girl that had stolen his young master’s kiss, but Ciel’s disdain was quite comical, naive and too young still to appreciate such intimacies. “Someday, when you are grown, you will not think that my darling. Do you remember what I told you about soulmates? When you find them, you’re likely to _want_ their kisses. Perhaps, miss Elizabeth is not the one you are destined to be kissing,” Sebastian replied bemusedly, opening his arms in offerance of comfort if the boy should have a desire for it. _

_Ciel fell into Sebastian’s embrace as soon as he felt the warmth radiating off his flesh, then nuzzled the angel’s chest to rid himself of Lizzie’s sickly-sweet smell and replace it with the spicy-soothing scent of his friend. His blue eyes gazed upwards, boring into Sebastian’s, searching his face as if it held the answers to the questions he’d yet to ask. He lifted a somewhat trembling hand, touching his fingers to Sebastian’s lips, admiring how they were attractively parted and curved at the corners, how his stillness made them look perfect and full and soft, then remembering how they felt atop his head and on his cheek. He was abruptly overcome by the urge and the desire to know how they would feel against his lips. Before he could stop himself, he closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against the Angel’s, kissing him a moment before pulling away._

_Sebastian couldn’t help but catch a taste, another teasing glimpse of the boy’s soul on his petal plump lips. It was still so young, unsoiled and dewy with innocence. It was so sweet and somehow so achingly familiar that it made him crave more just like it, inexperienced and clumsy as it was, but he did not press for them when Ciel broke away from him again. He watched him with hooded eyes and smiled kindly instead, thumbing over one rose-flushed cheek; the child was so precious, still too young to go any further, but even just this was enough for the Fallen. For now… Someday, there would be more between them. “And how did you find my kiss in comparison to the young lady’s, my darling?” he inquired, a knowing glinting in his scarlet gaze and amused affection in his tone._

_Ciel was wide-eyed and flushed as he stared at Sebastian, barely registering his friend’s words; all he could hear was the blood rushing and roaring round his eardrums in a fast, loud, pulsing rhythm. Even the cage spun a little bit and he had to steady himself against Sebastian’s forearms before he answered by guiding a large onyx lacquered hand to his thudding heart and held it there. “Kissing boys isn’t so bad,” he answered breathless and honest. Completely unashamed or self-conscious, he leaned in to swiftly kiss Sebastian’s cheek, then left in a hurry, giggling as he waved and ran back up the stairs, taking two at a time._

_Sebastian watched the boy scamper off, fingertips poised against the tingling in his lips unconscious as the smile that lingered there. “Cheeky boy,” he mused though Ciel had already gone and he stood there for a long while, gaze unfocused and decidedly fond as he thought about his little lordling even while he was not present. Children grew up so fast..._

***

There were fevered dreams of dust and ash, of buildings burning, being trapped inside and suffocating. There was a vague impression of a butterfly undergoing reverse-metamorphosis and being trapped in a cocoon forever.

Willingly.

Delirious blue eyes snapped open; they were unseeing and yet the dulled irises continued to search for something, _for someone_. Long eyelashes fluttered, brushing against his tear-stained cheeks as though he could blink the darkness away. Ciel whimpered and fussed, tossed and turned, failing in his attempts to self-soothe or find comfort. Delirium and something like madness was setting in like it had when their bond had been infected and like the sluggish contamination of neglect after his mother’s passing, just much, much worse. And this time, Sebastian was not around to save him. 

That was fine. The lure of sleeping six feet under, swaddled in the same earth in which _He_ had grown his roses was becoming stronger by the day. 

Snake could see it a little more with every day that Ciel remained asleep, there but not. It was not just grief; Ciel was heartsick. He could smell it in the anguished lost scent that rolled off the mortal. He did not know how to assist. He spent long hours caring for his hurting friend, speaking to him when all was quiet, assuring him, but he did not know if his words even reached the young man. It was difficult to be helpless while he watched his dear friend fade more each day.

Donne poked his head out of Snake’s sleeve as he tucked Ciel in again after his fitful fussing; he’d done it so many times already, he’d lost count. Nothing soothed Ciel, nothing consoled him. _He’s starting to show, but it’s too slow. She needs him,_ the little serpent whispered.

“How can I ask him to wake when this world only holds memories for him and memories will not keep him warm the way dreams can,” Snake knew.how alluring the warmth of dreams could be and also how terrible the nightmares. Donne was not wrong; Ciel was not the only one suffering in his own absence. 

_Call for your mate. He has ways of helping,_ Emily piped in urgently. Snake glanced at her, prepared to argue. Though it had been a long while since he’d seen him, he was not sure if he wanted to see his mate just yet. Certainly he missed him, but he did not like how long it was taking for his mate’s plan to come to fruition. Hadn’t they all waited long enough? So lost was he in his own thoughts that he did not sense the approach of the very being of which he had been thinking. 

“Tha’ I do lil darling,” Maltheal’s airy tone sounded, giving Snake a start before he turned his narrowed golden gaze to the reaper. Undertaker stood with a lazily cocked hip, the vial that held the liquid feather he’d taken from Ciel not so long ago poised between his spindly fingers and crooked, knowing half smile on his lips.

 _Is it done yet?_ Snake hissed impatiently to his mate in his companions’ language to ensure he wasn't somehow overheard by Ciel. He clutched the faded scarf that the god wore wrapped around his chest and knotted at the hip and forced him to his knees, so that his dangerously slitted eyes might bore into Maltheal’s phosphorescent ones. The nephilim was loathe to remove the comfort of his hands from Ciel if it was going to stir him so soon after he’d found a peaceful dreamscape that kept him still, relaxed and unflinching. _Are you here to mend his heart or simply to abate his pain for a while?_

Vibrant meadowgrass glittered through the moonstone lashes as Maltheal looked up at his mate, keen enough to kneel before his beloved. “M’afraid ‘tis not yet finished. An’ M’not th’un tha’ can mend ‘im, but this’ll,” he murmured, offering Snake the vial as he reached with his other hand to caress his mate’s thigh, “provide ‘im some relief.” He shuffled closer on his knees, unable to resist the pull of the other male. He hadn’t seen him, touched him in so long; it was necessary, but he missed him something fierce. “T’s been too long Poppit,” he breathed as he pressed his face against Snake’s lower belly and closed his eyes tiredly. He was as weary as his lover and yes he’d come to help wake Ciel, but more than that, he’d come for this.

Snake kept a hand secured tightly over the mortal’s sweat-dewed back, but drew the other away and swept his lover’s long, starlit locks from his face. His core pined and ached with longing, while his fingers twitched with the restraint it took to not pull Maltheal’s face to his own, plunder that perfect mouth and sink his teeth into his alabaster flesh to taste his lifeforce. As it was, it had been weeks since he’d last fed, but he gladly made the sacrifice as a show of his solidarity to Ciel. 

He pulled away less than a minute later before the need overwhelmed him and propped the unconscious boy into a semi-reclined, sitting position. Maltheal kindly uncorked the vial for him, and Snake dipped his clawed finger inside, wetting the tip, then moistening Ciel’s lips with it. The mortal’s small tongue darted out immediately, licking his lips before parting them expectantly. The nephilim winced; what he had to give his grieving friend was not what he was waiting for. It would only disappoint him. He tipped the vial and carefully dripped Asmodeus’ essence into Ciel’s mouth as he watched the mortal swallow greedily. He lay him facing upwards again, and the poor thing continued to smack his lips, savoring the sweetness of his mate on them as pitiful whimpers could be heard from the back of his throat. With the remaining blacklit luminous substance, he pushed up Ciel’s shirt and drizzled it onto his slightly rounded belly. Not wanting to waste any of it on his own hands, he took Ciel’s and had him unknowingly massage it into his skin. Snake felt the heat of the soul within radiate with relief and bliss; no doubt it could feel the protective, reverent selflessness with which it had been given.

“You should probably leave now…” Snake whispered to his mate. He was sure the god could feel the tension and frustration behind his lover’s words, they also held an urgency, a plea for him to get back to work in creating their own happy ending. 

“Jus’ a minute longer Poppit, jus’ tha’ an’ I’ll go,” Maltheal promised, nuzzling against Snake another moment, pressing a kiss to the smooth-sharp curve of his love’s hipbone before he finally forced himself to let go before he couldn’t. It wasn’t time yet. He straightened to his full height and rested one hand on Snake’s cheek, looking down at him longingly, “Soon m’love. Jus’ a li’l more… Promise.”

***

_He could not stop. Once he’d started touching him, feeling him, it was not enough. He’d only watched him for so long; how had he had the restraint? He could not remember._

_And he moved them, but he had no memory of their flight as he laid Ciel back in the plush grass at the foot of the massive willow that grew at the heart of his garden. The boy’s arms were around his neck, fingers tangled in the downy bases of his pearly wings and his thighs were at his sides, tight about his waist, drawing him, luring him close, closer. And their mouths broke away only to crash together again a breath later, teeth and tongue, swallowing, consuming, unexpected but somehow familiar like it was only natural, as if it was as it was always meant to be.This precious thing was meant to be his._

_There was something so pure in the Angel’s carnality that it made Ciel ache with need, with a longing he'd never experienced before. He'd been taught by Peter to protect his virtue, to treasure it as the gift it was, to hold onto it until such a time his guardian thought it would be suitable. That time was **now** , regardless what Peter thought. _

_He breathed the Angel in, inhaled him deep into his core, tasted and touched him, was ready to devote himself body and soul and do anything the Angel asked of him. His mouth eased from Asmodeus, lips swollen and tingling and when he looked at his soulmate, his eyes were hooded, his desire readable in his expression and one of reverent worship, “Are you… are we?”_

_“Yes,” came the husky-coarse answer from Asmodeus’ lips. His fingers had found their way inside the tattered and dusty cloth that kept Ciel’s modesty, sought his skin and soothed it, cleansed it, worshipped it. They crawled to places previously untouched, drew gasps, keening whines, and curses from the boy beneath him as he caressed between his thighs, along the soft flesh and further. His lips found purchase on the boy’s jaw, teeth and tongue mapping his way to his pulse, worrying, marking, claiming. He needed in such a way as he had never needed before. He’d been lonely, but he knew now that hollowness had been for this sweet divine creature; he been waiting, pining for him, for this, for what they would be for each other._

_Ciel was falling hard and sinking fast. Coming undone. Coming undone. Coming undone. The Angel’s hand found its way under his back and arched it further, so that his body was pressed flushed against his lover’s. Every inch of skin had been accounted for, claimed, bitten, **owned**. The entirety of **his** Angel’s being should have been intimidating, true his beauty was almost too much to behold, his aura was enslaving and spellbinding, his movements, kisses and ruts strong and sure, but to Ciel they were comforting, soothing, filling a pitiful emptiness that no human could have allayed. They had been chosen. Were meant to be. He clung to Asmodeus, knotted his hands in the long midnight strands of his hair to pull him closer, but it wasn’t close enough. They shared breath, and passion, sweat and need, indecency and desperate want. “Have… Have you… with a human? Will you be gentle with me?” _

_Asmodeus growled low and deep in his chest, fingertips finding the entrance nestled between the plump cheeks of the youth’s rear, instinctively seeking, finding and coaxing it to allow him to press them inside. “I’ve not… Not with a mortal and not like this. I can make no promises; I’ve not needed so desperately before. Only you inspire this madness,” he murmured behind Ciel’s ear, nibbling there and inhaling his scent deeply as he ground and rut against him, his unoccupied hand groping along the boy’s thigh and hip greedily._

_Ciel revelled at the warmth and pleasurable pain of the intrusion, his small, restless hands fisting the feathers, pulling at them with every stretch, every inch buried within his eager entrance, with every intensified moan Asmodeus pulled from his lips. Cloudless sky blue eyes met the mortal’s, and yet their pigment belied their calm; behind them, a storm that promised to consume everything in its wake was brewing. Ciel submitted willingly, exposing his throat to the Angel, letting his Adam’s apple bob and swallowing under the pressure of teeth, tongue and lips against it. “Don’t be gentle. Show me exactly how meaningful I am to you.”_

_“As you say my darling,” Asmodeus affirmed as he mouthed along the boy’s collarbone. He was eager to taste more of his skin, to mark it again and again, and whisper the words of desire, devotion and eternity across his soul as they surged in the core of him. He could feel the profound echo of Ciel's soul, hear its song, and taste its possession; he belonged to the boy as much as Ciel belonged to him._

_He spread the young man beneath him tenderly, his touch firm, assuring and possessive. Saliva slicked fingers wasted little time in preparing his human for mating, pressing inside, stretching, exploring, seeking out the places inside Ciel that made him cry his pleasure and arch wantonly against him. And it was too much to restrain himself when the first of the breathlessly hoarse pleas passed his lover's kiss swollen lips. He sank into him moments later, the sensation dizzying as he hilted himself inside the boy, held him tight and guided him into the intrusion with guttural and demanding growls and low keens of appreciative approval._

_Though every sensation was new, Ciel's body responded to Asmodeus’ as if it had known him forever. They moved together in perfect synchronicity, the mortal sharing and feeding his soul to his fated one and in return, the Angel tasted the light within and made it burn brighter. The mortal’s heated flesh slid and slapped against his lover’s as ecstatic tears fell from eyes that refused to leave his mate’s handsome face, as sobs crying out his mate’s name fell from his lips, and as he himself fell from the precipice of pleasure, painting the Angel’s stomach with his very human claim._

_There was a moment's hesitation, hitched breaths and promises made, then begging whimpers for the Angel not to stop. Quite abruptly Ciel was turned over, his hips raised in a bruising grip, and his soulmate slammed into him none too gently again just as he'd hoped he would. Ciel’s hands dug into the earth, clutched the long reeds of sweet grass, only to have them break repeatedly in his grasp. Each of the Angel’s thrusts went deeper than the last, were faster, and Ciel could feel the strained control with which Asmodeus rocked against him._

_The Angel did not stop, varying the speed, force, and depth of his thrusts, shifting his hips just so to rub over the throbbing and eager pleasure spot inside the mortal, reveling in how Ciel clenched around him with every shallow, teasing thrust. He kept his taunting pace as Ciel rode out yet another shaking, hoarse, and sobbing climax, rumbling his approval ferally against the young man’s sweaty spine. It had been hours already; darkness had settled over his garden, lit by dappled starlight through the weeping limbs of the willow that sheltered them and still he had not been sated. He had lost count how many times his lover had cried and begged for him, how many times he had kissed away aches only to replace them with fresh ones moments after. Again and again and still he craved for him._

_He slid a hand beneath Ciel’s chest, pulled him upright in his lap, impaling him deeply as he held him. His fingers ran up further, curving tenderly around the boy’s bruise-mottled throat, and leaning in to bite at his shoulder. His wings furled in around them, flexing as they leveraged his movements, grinding up into Ciel and guiding the mortal’s hips into his own. _Ciel… I need… You are mine… Mine,_ Asmodeus murmured in the language of heaven, his voice nothing human, husky, melodic and profoundly possessive, like a promise, like a vow, like eternity._

_Ciel’s head rested upon Asmodeus’ shoulder, his blunt nails digging into the Angel’s thighs and leaving crescent marks as his newfound mate drove their movements, their hips pulling apart and coming back together in unison, grinding with a symphony of grunts, cries, growls and moans, of squelching sounds and skin slapping against skin. Ciel matched his downward plunges to each frantic, speeded thrust, arched into the strong, firm chest behind him and revelled in the pleas and desperate inhuman whines that vibrated against his sweat-slicked back. Ciel was damp and feverish, saw nothing but the starlit sky overhead until they exploded before his eyes, their heat enveloped him, consumed him, ignited his soul, blazing from belly to chest to limbs. He clenched around Asmodeus, strangling and squeezing him, rushing again towards his climax, dying a little and feeling inertia and helplessness set in. His mortal body gave a violent shudder, spilling onto Eden’s divine garden as he fell forward only to be caught and held firmly against his lover, pinned as if he were boneless, weightless._

_As Ciel arched against him, fell into bliss, Asmodeus finally allowed his lover to drag him into it with him. He bit down hard along the crook of the boy’s shoulder, moaning gutturally as the taste of his lover’s divinity and devotion washed over his tongue and he swallowed as his hips snapped into Ciel’s once, twice, before they stuttered to a halt, filling him with warmth, his inhuman length swelling at its base to properly breed with his mate, locking them together as Ciel’s body greedily milked him of his release. And they sank together, Asmodeus cradling the petite youth to him, wrapping him in his winged embrace, purring and crooning pleasure and praise as his hands soothed away aches he’d left again. “You are loved. I’ve been waiting so long for you,” he whispered into Ciel’s damp hair, lips brushing behind his ear affectionately as his left hand settled over Ciel’s belly, fingers spread wide and kneading ever so gently over the expanse. He could feel CIel inside him, echoing in the bond he’s placed on him; the boy had invited and accepted him without hesitation, without preamble or fear. In him, there was only desire, yearning and familiarity; _home.__

_“I’ve not had to wait as long as you, Angel, but I have waited all my life,” Ciel mumbled sleepily into Asmodeus’ hand, kissing his way up from palm to fingertips. Uncle Peter had said that suffering was not without reason, and Ciel had not understood until this very moment what he’d meant. He’d gladly go through being abandoned by his parents and raised in poverty again, he’d even live in limbo for millennia if he could be assured of a happy ending with his soulmate._

***

It was suffocating, thick and viscous, more so than water, than blood, like tar, heavy and groping. He gasped when he surfaced blindly. The darkness was vast, unending in contrast to the brightness of the scene moments before and then he was submerged again, flailing, clawing to find his way back out, but it was a struggle. He lost his way, forgot which direction he was supposed to be striving toward, could not orient himself. Where was he? How long had he been here? What was this place? Where had he come from? He wasn’t supposed to be here, but why? Who was the blue-eyed boy? Who was _he?_ Familiar and not, confusing as he muddled his way through. He should know; it was there, just on tongue-tip not so far from his lips, from freedom. _Ciel…_ it came out gasped, strangled and muffled by the fluid that washed around him and back into his mouth.

He felt a hand on his head, long fingers gently coaxing him back under and a voice that echoed with care, bittersweet with the words he spoke, “S’not time yet boyo, s’almost over, jus’ a lil longer now… They faded as he sank back in, lost and cast adrift again in the mire of images and haunting blue eyes.

_He hadn’t been able to touch the boy again, had been forced away as Ciel screamed and begged and scrambled to be free of him, no recognition in his fathomless sapphire eyes, blown wide with panic. And he panted, unable to properly draw in breath as his anxiety peaked. Vincent took him, viciously reminded him he was undeserving, that he had brought this on the little boy by thinking otherwise. He was accused and condemned and confined further, bound harshly and left torn and half mad with regret._

_He lashed out at the bars of his cage, growled, hissed and keened mournfully. He’d never wanted this. He should have known Vincent would do something so cruel, should have prepared for it. But he was so sure, had been since before his birth that the boy was his. He’d been so hopeful, like a fool. He’d been made vulnerable with the boy, cherished him… loved him. Ciel was always his… His **weakness** and he should not be surprised that his master had exploited it. Just like others would. _

_It had been agony, hot and frigid, cloying as it was pried from inside him. It was like being restrained, lashed and quartered, torturous, and no matter his will, his desire to rebel against it, he would bow in the end. He’d never wished to hurt the child, the precious little creature that promised him freedom someday, but in the end, the choice had not been his. He’d been a fool to believe he’d had one in the first place. Had he been in captivity so long, he’d forgotten how barbaric humans could be? Let himself become soft in the peace he’d found in the little boy… It was shameful how he pined for him._

_He grieved for the loss, lamented his own naivety, cursed himself as he cried tears that fell to the floor and scattered in ashy pearls. He stared after them for a long while as a strikingly familiar and hateful darkness spread, betrayed, vicious, and inescapable. Ciel would be his, but he would not be so weak again. He would have vengeance on those that would keep him from what was rightfully his. He crushed the tears to fine dust beneath his heels, bitterness growing and poisoning the pure desire he had to be close to the little boy, to Ciel, his soulmate…_

_Anguish turned to ire, pining became obsession, loneliness became gnawing, starvation became a state of being and the only solace were the envious glimpses from the eyes of his familiar. The second-hand images were not nearly enough to sate him, only fueling his need, perverting it further with his jealousy and as the boy grew, so too did Sebastian’s lust for him and everything Vincent had feared would come to pass. Ciel would be his because he always had been. He just had to be patient; Ciel would come to him._

***

“Sebastian… Sebastian...”

She had become accustomed to the sound of his stomach growling, his heart beating and breaking, the occasional hiccuping when he sobbed, but this, _this_ was the first word he’d uttered since she’d become _aware_ this time around. How she'd missed the sound of it! Soothing and soft in its inflection, gentle and caressing in its tone. It was beautiful even if it was rough with grief and rife with sorrow. And even though the name was wrong, she knew it was still _him_. He spoke it with the same need and longing; the ambient sound vibrated down to his abdomen, displacing the warm fluid that surrounded her, its resulting ripples tickling and teasing her, causing Aurora to release her small thumb from her mouth and dance about, squirming inside what little space was left. Through the dim light that filtered through the membrane of her whole world, she saw his dainty hand cast a shadow as it eased her restless, uncoordinated movements, then heard and felt him quietly hum the lullaby to which he himself had been lulled to sleep every night in infancy by a devoted choir of Angels sent down and gifted to him by his divine father. 

She settled in, hoping to hear him speak again and when he did, she smiled. Finally, Daddy Ciel was awake.


	45. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the Chapter: Good things come to those who wait.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the encouragement you've been giving us in the form of comments, kudos and dropping in on us on Tumblr- we really appreciate all of it. Your patience for this specific chapter has been invaluable. We hope when you read it, you'll see why it took so long :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Music**  
>  Sebastian/Asmodeus~ [ Dolphin’s Cry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBHmcORu4og)&[ Run to the Water by Live](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TB1zPYKQCCY), [ Salvation by Gabrielle Aplin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IEMnWhT_7c), [ War of Hearts by Ruelle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyHzPAORiHg), [ Terrible Lie (Acoustic Nine Inch Nails Cover) .](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfGuttXnO5c&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=168), [ The Work Song by Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH7bjV0Q_44&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=142)  
> Ciel~ [Please Don’t Go by Joel Adams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2oxFIsENgM) [Unchained Melody by Harrison Craig](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7OLCBMs9Tk)  
> Edward Phantomhive ~ [Thanatos by Soap & Skin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmJqdISO9Bk)  
> Vincent Phantomhive ~[Become the Beast by Karliene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmVzeriU5m0)

Miss Elizabeth had been the first one Snake had allowed to see Ciel once he’d woken. The hybrid had been wary at first and perhaps a little overprotective, but she had wordlessly approached him, kissed the top of his rose-scented hair and sank to the garden floor with him. Eyes bright and brimming with relief and astonishment, she lay her hands gently on his rounded belly and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she’d begun to croon to it. Since then, it had become her duty to sing _her_ to sleep when she got too restless. 

The Khansama and his lover had ventured to the surface after he’d given them permission and was informed by Keats that it was safe to do so. They had come back, arms full of procured items they deemed necessary for Ciel’s recovery. The younger of the two, Soma, purchased some books to read to both Ciel and the infant he carried. Snake was never far away when he did, finding that he enjoyed the voices the prince used when mimicking certain characters. After a few weeks, he and his companions even built up the courage to make reading requests from the plum-haired boy and sat by Ciel to enjoy the stories. 

Agni had thoughtfully acquired some of the foods Ciel had begun to crave. The garden provided many fresh ingredients, the sweetest, juiciest fruits imaginable, but it was not enough to sate Ciel’s growing appetite for sweet, man-made confections; and because he could deny his friend nothing, Snake aided in providing the necessary heat for the Indian butler to make decadent chocolate gâteaux, crème brûlées and a variety of other desserts. And while the mortal food had been enough to sustain Ciel, Snake still supplemented the mortal in his sleep with his own aura, a perfect balance of the demonic his friend had come to expect from his mate, and the angelic that had first fed and nourished the content, blissful little soul inside him. 

For his part, the Nephilim continued to comfort the mortal at night to make sure his slumber was profound, restful and healing. There were still tears, bouts of melancholy, regret and anger, but Ciel concealed it expertly from his friends; he was loathe to worry them and have them aware of his depthless sorrow and incurable longing. Everything he did now, he did for _her_. He’d stopped living for himself, and lived only to love Aurora; she was, after all, the last remaining piece of Sebastian he had left.

In the moments Ciel was alone, away from his guardian and friends, he mused about Aurora and secretly hoped she would inherit all of Sebastian’s traits: his passion, his fierce loyalty, and even his odd sense of humour. He worried since his demon was no longer around to nuzzle his belly, to speak to her in his dulcet tone and sing and cradle them both to sleep, that she would be too much a Phantomhive in both outward appearance and demeanour. In order to substitute for his presence, Ciel spent hours every day talking to her about his lost lover. He spoke of anything he could remember from his previous life, from meeting the Angel and falling hard for him the moment he laid eyes on him and even told her about the more mundane, domestic life they had shared in Eden, about bathing and eating and stealing kisses in the night. He spoke of meeting him anew in this life and that even at eight months of age, he’d remembered his face, though it had been different this time, especially the eyes and the dark feathers, but his gentleness, his grace and his voice had not changed. He described how the older he got, the more the memories from his past life faded and that by the age of five, he’d forgotten them altogether, only to fall in love with Sebastian all over again. 

“I remember when I realized that I loved him again, that he was _meant_ for me,” he told her quietly, while he drummed his fingers on his hardened, swollen belly and watched as she poked back as a show of her attention. “It was nearing Christmas and I wanted desperately to surprise him. I’d spent weeks stealing gifts from Grandma Rachel and Grandpa Vincent, wrapping them up and storing them in my closet until [ Christmas Eve](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12898026)." He sighed deeply and continued to recount the story as he leaned against the giant Willow tree and began to drift to sleep.

***

_Asmodeus had shooed both his lover and his familiar away to sit by the sparkling pool amongst the sprawling roses of his garden as he fussed about the base of the Willow tree that shaded their bed. He was meticulously preparing, making their nest bigger and replacing the old down with fresh plumage, soft, sweet grasses and plush mosses, arranging everything just so; he wanted it to be perfect, comfortable for his lover and their new arrival._

_It was when Ciel’s limbs began to weigh him down that he ignored Ori’s appeals for him to rest among the flowers and not to get in his master’s way. By the time he made it to his mate under the tree, he simply crawled over the lip of the large nested area, ignored Asmodeus’ exasperated sighs and flopped down amongst the comfort of his mate’s efforts and painstaking work. He curled up on his side, hand on his bulging stomach and groaned contentedly. “You almost done doing whatever it is you’re doing, Asmodeus? M’so tired, need a nap soon…”_

_The Angel examined the nest with a critical eye though his attention kept slipping to his mate now curled in it, unable to keep the frown in his brow and the endeared and fond curl from his pale lips, “I suppose I am now, my darlings.” He sat back, resting his elbows on his bent knees and watching Ciel as Ori snuck into the nest, never too far from his mate these days. The little familiar wasted no time in draping himself over Ciel’s belly, laying his head against it and listening to the steady pulse inside, drawing designs over the curve of it as he talked to the child within. Asmodeus shook his head as Ori boasted about all the things he would teach her once she was born, and met Ciel’s sleepy-eyed gaze, “Comfortable? Sleep if you’re tired my love, I’ll watch over you.”_

_Ciel ran his small, slightly bloated digits through Ori’s silky, fine hair, pressing the pads of his fingers into the child’s scalp and massaging it. The familiar made the funniest, sweetest little sounds at the back of his throat and the mortal couldn’t help but glance at his own lover to see his glinting blue orbs disappear behind heavy lids, a smile taking residence upon his handsome face. “Come,” Ciel motioned, noisily patting the available space next to him, “I have two hands, Asmodeus; I’m sure my other one can find itself to your wings, or your head, or…” He smiled wickedly and began humming Aurora’s lullaby, waiting for his mate to join him._

_Asmodeus did not hesitate to join his mate; as if he could ever deny him._

***

No matter what he did, it wasn’t enough. He’d miscalculated the size and had made it too large for only he and his daughter. He must have misjudged the location as well, because it didn’t feel _right_. He wracked his brain, squeezing at his temples and rubbing circles into them as he tried to remember back some millennia ago to when Asmodeus had done it. But he couldn’t. He knelt at the center of the small clearing made up of soft grasses, sweet-smelling mosses, flower petals and sea sponges and yet it still wasn’t enough. Defeated and exhausted, his head fell forward, bowing his face into his hands and sobbed, his overgrown hair concealing his tears and muffling his whimpers as to not be overheard. It would never smell like his mate, would not be soft enough without his downy plumage.

Maltheal had said it wasn’t far, but it felt like he had been walking for ages. His feet were dragging and his shoulders were slouched defeatedly. Maybe he was lost, but he was sure this was the way back to the master’s garden. He didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t remember how the battle had ended. He’d only been concerned about his master and mistress upon waking anyhow and Death said all was well, that Ciel was waiting for him and he shouldn’t dally. 

Poe perked up abruptly, nostrils flaring as he caught a familiar scent and with it came the call he’d been waiting for. _She_ and the mistress were waiting for him like Maltheal had said. He hadn’t been able to feel them at first, could only feel passing flickers of his master, but as soon as he felt the pull, his wings took him where they were in moments. He landed softly some paces from the weeping young man and looking about the disheveled nest. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the mortal in its middle; just how long had he been sleeping? 

He took a tentative step and then another, feathers whispering as dark wings shifted at his back, one small, pale hand reaching out towards Ciel’s prone form. “Don’t cry mistress. You’re prettier when you smile,” he said quietly, a shy smile on his reddish lips.

Ciel pinched his eyes shut and shook his head as his open palms found his ears. He was hearing things. Had wanted so desperately to do this right, to have made Sebastian proud, to honour his memory and usher their daughter into this world the way the demon would have, that he'd somehow managed to allow himself to fall into madness. What a cruel trick his mind was playing on him, for Ciel knew he was most certainly not sleeping and this was no dream. The voice, so filled with concern and awe was too clear, too closeby. “Stop…” he lamented mournfully, “It’s not real… it's not _true_.”

What was he talking about? It _was_ real. Could Daddy Ciel not feel it the way she could? The pull and the warmth of it? The comfort and the elation? Her mouth opened to call out to him, to her _soulmate_ , only to be filled with amniotic fluid, and produce little sacs of air in Daddy’s belly. She choked on them momentarily and hiccupped in her confined space. Ciel would feel her doing so from within; Ori would see it, feel it from the outside. Know she had felt him, that she'd been waiting.

“What’s not mistress?” Poe asked, drawing closer to Ciel. He could feel the little soul inside Ciel shifting, see it flickering brightly, eagerly within him; and he knew without a doubt, even though they had never had the chance to properly meet, that she remembered him. He couldn’t have stopped himself from slipping into the nest with Ciel even if he’d wanted to, nor could he keep from reaching for her, spreading his small hand over Ciel’s swollen belly where the glow was brightest. He gasped softly when sparks tingled in his palm and fingertips and he could not pull his wide-eyed gaze away from her, reverently voicing his thoughts, “She’s so beautiful mistress. Just like I remember.”

Ciel’s eyelashes flickered, blinked rapidly, mouth gaping open in surprise as his hands settled reluctantly, lightly, on the familiar’s little head nuzzling his belly. What was it he was supposed to say? _Goodbye? H-Hello?_ He’d wanted to bid his friend farewell, but now it seemed unnecessary. How was that possible? He _was_ real, wasn’t he? He could feel his eager, child-like palms exploring his belly enthusiastically and the heat that radiated and spread from there. 

And yet, the mortal remained silent. Speechless. Didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Instead, he craned his neck, searching desperately over the familiar, past the drooping branches of the Willow tree. From where would _He_ emerge? His eyes darted from inverted waterfall, to rose garden, to the lagoon and the steep stone steps that wound up to the surface. When he still could not see him, a wide, exultant smile lit his face and tears, happy for once, overflowed his eyes while expectancy choked the air out of his lungs. His heartbeat sped, he felt the blood rush through his body, felt more alive than he had in _months_. He rose to his feet, mouth dry, breath quickening and muscles tensing to turn around to face his soulmate. You would have had a better chance ordering the sun not to rise every morning than keeping Ciel Phantomhive still in that very moment! Even the life within surged and moved about excitedly.

Poe’s hands never left him, but now he was soothing the both of them, shushing, cooing. Why? Because there was no pull? No heat? No security? No pulse? No draw? No… No… No… No... A fist-sized lump caught in his throat and his voice cracked and rose when he finally spoke, “P-Poe? Where… Where is he? Where’s Sebastian?” 

“I don’t know…” the little raven replied honestly. He hadn’t seen the master where he’d woken and he’d been too concerned about Ciel and the precious little creature inside him to search for Sebastian. He was sure if he had been remade then so too had his master. “I was somewhere I’ve never been before. It took a long time to get here. Maybe he’s still there, but don’t worry mistress, I can help you make the nest better in his absence,” he offered in a warm and comforting tone, wanting to soothe Ciel’s distress though he didn’t completely understand the cause of it. He couldn’t remember what had happened to the master and himself.

“Do you feel _him_? At all?” Ciel asked, sighing heavily and sinking back onto his knees. His shoulders slumped under the heavy, bitter weight of disappointment and remorse. He felt so damned guilty for feeling this way; Poe was back. He should be happier than he was. He tried smiling again, even just a shadow of the smile he’d worn seconds ago, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Sometimes I think so,” Poe answered before he paused, his large russet hued eyes understanding as he looked at the young man, recognizing the guilt and yearning disappointment. He reached a hand up to cup Ciel’s cheek, “You don’t have to pretend mistress. It’s okay to wish for him instead of me… Mm, just remember, I’m much easier remade than he would be.”

“I’m sorry,” the young man said, planting a soft, sweet kiss to Poe’s forehead, “You know I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you, but it’s nothing compared to how much _she’s_ missed you.” True, he wasn’t Sebastian, but his very presence had brought Ciel a much-needed taste of serenity, of _hope_. The mortal reached for the little familiar’s hand and pressed it to his swollen belly again, along the right side. Immediately, he felt Aurora move her limbs, saw the pressure of her eagerness to touch Poe as small digits emerged, making themselves known just under the surface of his skin. “See?” 

Poe was silent for a drawn moment, speechless as he felt her touch through the barrier. She was so bright, so alive, so perfect. “I forgot how small she is, but she’s so strong already,” he murmured in an awed tone, watching Ciel’s belly, leaning in to press his lips there and spread his palm against hers, revelling in the life that radiated there. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed her, had been wishing and waiting for her since before Ciel had even been reborn. He’d always had his memories even when his master had not and he had not been able to voice them to Sebastian, cursed silent for his loyalty to his master. It had been so lonely. He started talking to her in the melodic language of Heaven as he nuzzled and kissed Ciel’s belly affectionately.

With some difficulty due to Poe’s insistence to keep his hands plastered to his body, Ciel shifted until he was sitting on his bottom, his arms behind himself to remain propped up. “So, what did I do wrong? What am I missing?” He asked awkwardly, referring to his nest as the familiar actively tried to drape himself across the large bulge of his stomach and touch as much of it with his body as possible. 

The dark wings snapped out, feathers rustling playfully and Poe peeked up at Ciel with a lazy smile, “What softer and warmer bedding than the feathers of loved ones? Master’s would be better, bigger and stronger, but you can have all of mine in his stead.”

“I… I can’t…” Ciel stuttered; not after Belial, not after the torment and agony Poe had undergone. “We can find something else, I can send Soma to get some body pillows or quilts or something…” he assured, carding his fingers delicately through the silky plumage and gasping when they began falling free. 

“It tickles,” Poe giggled, wings shifting as feathers fell like dark snowflakes beneath Ciel’s fingers and new ones grew in to replace them with a delightful sensation. He hugged Ciel’s belly, boasting in childlike tones, “Besides she deserves the best. No purchased pillow or blanket will be as gentle on the both of you, I can promise you that.”

Soon after, Ciel and Poe set to work, stopping intermittently at the familiar’s urging that the mortal needed to avoid overexerting himself. And while Ciel knew that Poe was looking out for his well-being, he knew the breaks had more to do with the child’s inability to refrain from speaking directly to and keeping his hand off his baby-bump. When bending over to adjust Poe’s feathers became too painful, Ciel simply sat at the center and watched as Poe kneaded the segments of the nest with which he was unsatisfied, pawing at it like a cat on a soft surface, fussing with the arrangement and mumbling about how it had to be _perfect_ for her. 

And it must have been, because it was the first time Ciel had managed to fall asleep without Donne’s _assistance_. He was warm, and comfortable and the sound and vibration of soft purring against his belly, a tender warble and a chirrupped snore, lulled both he and the princess to sleep in minutes. Ciel woke once as pregnant individuals were wont to do with an infant resting on their bladders, and woke the second time when one of Poe’s particularly deep breaths carried with it a slight semblance of a sigh that Sebastian might have exhaled were he at his side. 

After that, he couldn’t sleep anymore. He disentangled himself from the warm child, whispering something about _nature calling_ again and went to sit by the brilliant pool of water to dip his swollen feet. He gazed longingly at a spot in the lagoon; he knew it well- it was quite literally the area where the water came up past his shoulders, where Asmodeus would lift him and allow him to wrap his legs around his waist, the exact location that always lead to _something_. And this time when he thought of it, it didn’t bring on tears, but rather a stern, determined, petulant look. “I’m waiting for you, Sebastian,” he said to nobody in particular. It was probably the closest to a prayer he’d ever uttered, and generally he looked down his nose at the whole process, but since he was talking to his lover rather than God, it would be acceptable for this one time. “Did you hear me? It’s your turn to come back now. You promised me… In the cage; you said you wouldn’t leave me again. And you did, so you know what that makes you? A liar, Sebastian. And you promised you’d never lie to me either. So make it right. Come back. To me. To us. She’ll be here soon, a couple of days at most. So you better hurry.”

***

_That smell… It was so… What was it? Where was it coming from? When he’d first scented it, it had been but the barest thread, teasingly nipping at his senses. Then it had become stronger, more alluring and urgent, whispering things that were somehow so familiar and so sweet that he could not continue to resist. Unable to avoid the lure, he’d abandoned what amusements he’d been cultivating and found his way to its source._

_He should have been more aware, but that scent was just so intoxicating. He wasn’t hungry, but the desire to taste that which such an aroma belonged to was consuming. He wanted it, had the strong urge to possess and covet it, because it **belonged** to him. And it was too late by the time he realized his folly; he was already ensnared by the trap that had been set for him. Oh yes, indeed, he’d found the source of the scent. Blood, very old and very divine blood, uncorked from crystal stamped by the Vatican’s seal and used for the very Servant’s snare that had caught him. _

_He snarled, bared his teeth viciously at the handful of men that peered in intently at him from outside the cage they’d no doubt bound him in. Traces of the divinity lingered in the one that was pouring over a large, ancient (from the smell of it) text; kin to the one that had baited him, dormant and not at all as powerful, but somehow still vaguely familiar as if he’d known it once…_

_“What ignorance is this? Release me,” he hissed, voice guttural and dangerous as smoky tendrils obscured his form from the prying onlookers._

_Six men stood around the snag that had been carved into the stone to capture the powerful demon, each with traces of the ancient blood that had lured it there on their hands._

_One of them, a monk of poor health, brought a blue kerchief with the Vatican’s insignia to his mouth and coughed feebly into it, careful not to be noticed by the hellish entity. He sidled closer to the stern-looking man in aristocratic attire and muttered, “Earl Phantomhive, perhaps we should show him m-...”_

_“Nonsense,” Edward Phantomhive scoffed, not allowing the pious man to continue, lest he show the demon weakness. “Everything is going according to the Reaper King’s plan. He came, did he not?” He turned his attention to Asmodeus, drawing nearer to him, so close, they were almost touching, “Do not bother with your threats or in trying to evade us, demon. My blood tempts you, does it not? Are you not curious as to why that is the case? Do you not remember?”_

_“Yours? No… But the one from which you pilfered it, perhaps… I’m hardly inclined to elaborate on my personal recollections with a mere mortal that uses such cunning methods to invite me here. What do you want?” Asmodeus answered, a growl of distaste beneath the words as he shifted about in his confinement, expanding his aura to test the strength of the barriers idly._

_“Oh, you can try Asmodeus, but you’re not coming out of there,” Edward answered nonchalantly, nicking his flesh against the stickpin holding his cravat in place. An incantation or two from his own lips as well as the hooded figures that surrounded the trap added to the hum that resonated and erected a solid barrier around the devil. The rites and runes of Heaven eroded the newly forged confines where it was necessary, carving within them the protection Death had assured them once the young Earl bled onto them. “There,” he said, smiling widely at his captive with a self-satisfied air, “As for what I want, it’s quite simple; I want you to turn against your kin in the name of the Holy Church.”_

_A dark laughter rose, chilling in the dim shadowed dungeon in which he’d been incarcerated. “And why would I want to do that?” the demon asked amusedly, a sharpness beneath the humour that was threatening as the inhuman garnet glow of feline eyes in the writhing sooty tendrils surrounding him. How had they come to know his name? He did not like to be cornered and he did not like being controlled by lesser creatures._

_“Because insodoing, you will be fed; otherwise, you will be left here to rot until my bloodline is extinguished. Besides, you have no love for your brethren; they are as beneath you as we mortals, are they not? Think of it as a symbiotic relationship, if you will. By ingesting your own, you rid the world of the vermin and filth that has plagued it since the fall of your big brother. Of course, I will take the credit as will the Roman Catholic Church and in turn, you will be handsomely _rewarded_.” Edward’s hand breached the space between the bars, offering his wound to the fiend. The others had been warned that if he himself was to come to any harm that they were to abandon Asmodeus to the dungeon of his forefathers’ home and let him waste away. “Come now, Lust, you can taste it already, can’t you? It calls to you, makes you hungry, weakens and strengthens you simultaneously. Drink of me and we will seal this contract.” _

_Asmodeus snarled, dark claws lashing out at the cage irritably as he considered the choice he’d been offered. Neither option was ideal, but starvation seemed most unpleasant. And the scent of divinity, though diluted was as the mortal had said. It called to him familiarly as if from a dream he could not recall; perhaps it was, though how he could have dreamt it when he bore no need for sleeping remained a mystery. He licked his lips, forked tongue tracing along rows of serrated teeth, still growling as his luminous gaze settled on the offered blood. “Terms? And don’t play coy with me mortal; I know you have terms and I’ll know if you aren’t honest,” he finally answered demandingly._

_Edward Phantomhive cleared his throat and took from his waistcoat a folded blue piece of parchment. He removed his other hand from within the cage and motioned for one of the clergymen to approach with his torch and read from an abbreviated list. “First and foremost, you will shed your demonic name and you will assume the identity of _Sébastien Michaëlis_ , the great French inquisitor; as such, none will question your role or your presence when you accompany me while I fulfill the orders of the Church. Second, you shall not lie to your Master; ever, under no circumstance. And finally, you will keep me, and those to whom you are passed on to, safe from death until such a time that we die of natural causes and have left an heir in which to _gift_ you. Then, and only then, will you be privy to devour your Master’s soul, provided you have done your job well.” He handed the instructions to the nearby monk, along with his jacket and began unfastening the buttons to his wing-tipped dress shirt, “What say you, Sebastien? Will you accept these terms, or shall I leave you to starve?” _

_The Fallen growled his displeasure, but he had very little leverage to pull in the current situation and could only curse himself for his foolishness. “I accept,” he hissed darkly, pausing for a long moment as he crooked a sooty finger at the man, waiting until he’d approached again, taking his arm and drawing it towards his viciously fanged mouth. “But this covenant will end. There will come such a time where your blood betrays you and at that time, when I am offered it, I will have my freedom and I will have my retribution,” he continued, his lips brushing, ghostlike and dangerous over the human’s delicate skin, “I will not be kind in consuming every last one of you **Master.** ” Then his fangs sank mercilessly into the man’s flesh, searing and agonizing to the mortal as he feasted ravenously on the blood that surged forth to fill his mouth, sealing the reluctant contract for years to come._

He surfaced, gasping, floundering and pulled right back under again, unable to escape the restraining draw, the cloying viscous liquid that held him captive. Memories… He understood now where he was wandering, who he was, and as such, he knew what recollections must be coming. He did not want them, did not want to relive such agonies as he knew lurked in the shadowed midnight ocean of his very being. But he could not break free of them, could not push or pull, or claw himself out of the mire as it dragged him back in. He was lost again, running, but seemingly to no end; he wasn’t sure he was even moving, snippets of sound, conversations, whispered endearments, screams of pleasure, of pain, and anguished madness, weeping, his own and the echoing of others so familiar, but he could not discern the direction from which any of them came. They seemed all around him. He turned, he thought and then he was falling, wings failing.

***

_No sooner had Vincent heard the click of the study door indicating his son's departure, did he gasp for air and wretched over the side of the chaise-lounge he was resting upon. It had taken an inordinate amount of his ever-dwindling supply of resolve to remain deathly still as his only son, his heir, made the sign of the cross on his forehead, having thought him deceased. He would not allow Ciel to see him suffer any more than he had, did not want to give him a glimpse of what miseries lay ahead. And as he was nearing his final moments, he regretted it. He regretted everything; of having brought another Phantomhive to bear the weight of his ancestors’ misguided pursuit at glory and riches and of not having had the courage to betray the pact made by Edward and to end their _alliance_ with Sebastian once and for all. At least Ciel would end it. He would not produce an heir. _

_“Stop lurking, Sebastian. Let’s get this over and done with,” Vincent grumbled with what little energy he had left. He could feel the demon’s presence in the study, had come to know it well in the last thirty years, but since the transfer of their tenuous bond, his eyesight had begun to fail him. Now, he lay there on the chair, vulnerable, frail and blind and waited for the sweet release of death._

_A soft snort sounded from the devil as he slipped from the shadows, gliding over towards the prone man, looking down his nose at him. An unpleasantly satisfied smile curled the corners of his mouth as he spoke, “So eager are you? Not to see what becomes of your precious heir… Not see what **I** make of him… Such a coward Vincent, even in the end. But it’s not death you fear, oh no, you’re afraid of the weight of your failures as a father, as a husband, as a **man**...”_

_“None of which you will have to ever concern yourself with, Sebastian. At least, not ever again,” Vincent rasped, coughing, the taste of blood thick on his tongue as he thought of the ancient tome buried deep in the bowels of the clandestine Vatican library._

_“Concern… That is not the word I would use to describe what intentions I have for those particular failures **Vincent**... You could have avoided this you know… I could have healed what ails you, you might have even been able to mend some of the mistakes and ended this before now, but you never asked. Poor planning I suppose…” Sebastian replied, wheedling and condescending with no pity for the man as he leisurely circled around him. He reached out with his left hand, index and middle soot-stained fingertips pressing into the dip of Vincent’s sternum through the layers of his clothing and leaning in closer to him, chuckling when the blinded man jerked, startled by his sudden proximity and the frigid chill of his touch. “In all the years I’ve been shackled by Phantomhive, you were the cruelest master I ever served Vincent. And all you did was still for naught in the end. The boy is mine and you… You will know suffering as I have known it,” he murmured next to the man’s ear, the tone sinister and haunting and he chuckled darkly as his fingers sank inside Vincent’s chest by mere inches, seeking the soul within with agonizing slowness, drawing it out like threaded needles through stitching._

__But he was not the cruelest,_ Vincent mused, his body convulsing and spasming as the demon engaged his soul in a viciously agonizing game of catch and release, _The Fallen Angel’s father had been; at least he could not be accused of standing idly by, waiting and watching as others tormented his own son. No matter how flawed, how injudicious his actions, his intentions had been better than that of an indifferent god._ But he would never say these words to the demon. He was barely capable to think around the searing pain. He took comfort in the fact that Ciel was not around to see him this way, that he had not forced his son to hold his hand as he died the way his own father had. The demon was right. Vincent Phantomhive was not afraid of death; he had never been. What he feared most was for history to repeat itself for Ciel._

_Sebastian smiled, lips brushing Vincent’s ear, “Yours is a soul not even I would devour. Bitter… Even so, this already decaying vessel will wither painfully without it, but you won’t die Vincent, not really, not while I have this,” he said as he abruptly jerked his hand back from within the man’s heaving chest, a murky mass of blue grey sputtering in the loose grip of his fist. “You do not deserve the respite from your regret. Did you really think I would have any mercy for you?”_

_He straightened his posture and plucked a snowy white handkerchief from the inner pocket of the tailcoat he currently wore and swaddled the soul in it, all the while watching the man in the chair writhing and contorting as he gasped and whined until it became too much and he went still, panting raspily, tensing periodically and whimpering. He tucked the parcel back in the pocket from which he’d retrieved the hankie and cocked his head as he watched Vincent for a long moment, “For however many hours you remain breathing, you will know true starvation Vincent Phantomhive. You will know the agony of hollowness, the ache of yearning and the desolation of knowing there is no end to it. But do not worry… I’ll take care of Ciel. Unlike you, I take care of my possessions and you and I both know, he has always belonged to me.”_

He pulled himself back, stumbling as the sticky fingers of the memory tried to pull him back in. He staggered, feet faltering on uneven and too soft ground, like trying to run on honey, viscous and thick and he fell back into it like a down duvet, sinking into yet another memory, the one memory he had been dreading, had been hoping to avoid, to escape the endless sea before this particular wave drowned him, but he was not so lucky as that.

He tried to free himself, fought against it as it sucked him down, clawed and lashed out, refused to breathe it in until he couldn’t anymore and it flooded through him insistently. There was no escaping it, no matter how he did not wish to see, did not wish to relive it.

_Ciel had been gone too long already. Gabriel’s domain was not so far away. What in Eden could be keeping him? He paced as various scenarios chased each other in his mind. What if his mate had gotten lost, or hurt himself or worse yet, what if Aurora had decided she was ready? He became so flustered with anxiety that he could wait no longer and broke away from his own territory towards his brother’s, hopefully to find his wayward lover and bring him back home again._

_He did not find his mate there; Gabriel had not seen him, had not sent for him in the first place. Had Ciel lied then? Or been mistaken? Had someone… Lured him away under false pretenses?_

_The thought struck him abruptly and with it came a frigid writhing wash of dread. Then Ciel… He sought him through their bond, found nothing and panic settled over him, buzzed beneath his skin incessantly, anxious and urging. He took wing immediately, rushing, desperate to return home, to find him. He needed to find him… Why could he not feel him?_

_He cried out and faltered in the air when sudden and terrible agony found him, burned through him like liquid fire, icy-hot and throbbing in his blood. It hurt… so badly and then it didn’t, was just as suddenly quiet again, contented and peaceful… At a loss, he was relieved, but it did not last._

_Only breaths passed before raucous panic frantically fluttered in its place, urgent, erratic and broken. He stumbled into a run, propelling himself with his wings, half flying, half dashing as he became more desperate, tripping when streaks of pure pain and anguish so profound, his heart ached with it, then echoing stillness came again. And he could feel nothing and no one. Not his familiar, not his mate and not his precious precious daughter._

_He could not move fast enough, could spare not even a second for breath as he rushed. But he was too late. He knew even before he saw them… And the smell of lilac and ozone in the air was so potent, he could taste it bitter and nauseating on his palate and so damned familiar._

Sebastian tried desperately to push away from the scene. He did not want to see. He did not want to know this memory. There were no tears, but he was sobbing, pleading, resorting to, in his moment of weakness, even prayer. But no one answered and the horrid recollection dragged him back in kicking and screaming and cursing. He would see… He would know…

_He saw Ori first, kneeling with head bowed and hands tightly fisted in his lap, wings blood-stained and limp at his back. He came to be next to him, saw what he saw and fell into a kneel aside him when his legs would no longer hold his weight._

_There they were; his precious family… **Failure...** He’d failed them. He’d made so many promises, lies now. **Failure...** How? Why? That scent… His brothers most certainly, discernibly mismatched and volatile… **Impossible…** Their Father would not allow it. His brother had long since been exiled. **Betrayal…** Michael then, the mate of the Fallen Morning Star, and Father’s favoured. But even he could not open the gates of Heaven as he pleased. **Impossible…** Unless Father let him… **Betrayal…** Why?_

_No answer. Nothing… Silence… Too quiet. Asmodeus and Ori sat together there next to their mates, beautiful even in death, but empty… Like dolls and they were weren’t they, without those precious lights? Hours… Days perhaps… He didn’t know… He didn’t care. He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. Not the love that was his nor that of others. Not family nor lover. **Barren…**  
It was some time after then that he began digging, fingers bloodying themselves as they sank into the moss and soil, root and clay and stone beneath their tree not so far from them, and didn’t stop until it was enough. And while he dug, Ori collected all the roses from his garden, leaving not even a single petal and brought them back to him, plucked all the feathers from the wings on his back as they finally began to fall and those too joined the beloved silver-blue blooms. And when his master had finished, he and Ori placed them all perfectly in the softest, most lovely bed at the bottom of the earth in which to rest their loves._

_And when that was finally done, more feathers added by the elder, sweet mint, jasmine, and myrrh to pillow his beloved’s head as he laid him amongst his roses and their daughter, their Aurora… He’d never even gotten to hear her voice… He laid her on his lover’s chest, tenderly cradled her in Ciel’s hands, touched both their heads, running his fingers through the downy ash-navy… She looked just like Ciel... He kissed them both though they would not ever know it and whispered what love he had for them. It was the last time he would say it. There was no more inside him after that._

_He buried his whole world in his garden and with it, his faith, his love and his grief. When he rose again, Heaven felt his rage. God had no answers, was not even present to witness the wrath he waged. Hidden away somewhere… **Uncaring…** He’d let this happen, betrayed his son and did nothing to rectify it, made no promises or elaborations, said nothing, did nothing, deserved nothing. **Coward…**_

_As he denied his Father, felt hate for him and for his brothers, both Fallen and not, so ferociously, roiling in his blood like the oceans in typhoon, turbulent, untamed, and without discretion, he lost himself to it. Pain came then, cracked through him like lightning, splitting him at his core. He could neither move, nor scream as his grace was ripped out of him, dim as it had become in the shadows of his heart and left him hollowed, starving as he would always be. Insatiable because nothing could fill such a void as that that had been left in him as he fell. His Father had cast him out. Without word, warning, or resolution. There was no trial, no negotiation or explanation forthcoming. He fell and Eden fell with him. Excruciating as he was changed, mutated, **tainted** , but he welcomed it. He regretted nothing. They’d taken everything from him; there was no pain greater than the betrayal, no greater anguish than he had felt before then. But even that was burned away from him, replaced by fathomless darkness, the absolute absence of light and as was punishment for those like him, who disobeyed their Father, his memories of his love, his one, were lost; he could not even take solace in the past they’d shared together. _

_**Nothing…** _

Sebastian closed his eyes, finally granted the minute reprieve, exhausted and aching, stretched beyond what was pain once. He was still for a long moment, static in his head, lost as he was in the white noise of his mind and he could not outrun it or find his way out anymore than he had before. He was too weary from weathering the chaos of his memories.

_He opened his eyes only when he felt ghostlike beads like snow on his cheeks. The familiar eyes of his beloved were hovering above him, swimming with tears both shed and unshed. The ones that had come loose, cast off to make way for others fell upon his skin and for a moment he did not understand why Ciel was weeping. He felt serene in this moment, tranquil and content, at peace as he only ever felt with the mortal boy that bathed his skin with his tears and offered his divinity so freely to one such as him. How lucky he had been to be captured all those many years ago for this moment. Then he felt the tug… He was dying. If it meant Ciel was safe, their daughter was safe, would live to be born and brighten the world with her light, it was for the best. He hadn’t failed this time._

_He thought he’d probably always known it would come down to this, from the first moment he’d held the tiny babe in his arms and saved him from the storm that had so frightened him, or perhaps even from the first time he’d felt the flicker of that beautiful soul upon Ciel’s conception. The boy had always been his weakness and his strength. He’d always been the master of his heart; there was never another and there never would be. His only regret was that he had not lived to see the birth of his daughter._

_He was speaking, but he could not hear his own words, deaf as his vision was dimming… Darkness, his old friend..._

Sebastian was torn out of the last memory he had had, his death echoing through him, writhing as he tried to escape the crawling of his own flesh. He was so lost, could no longer distinguish memory from past and present as they pressed in upon him, so heavy were his sins, his regrets, his grief and his longing… _Oh the longing…_ And he shouldn’t be losing his way; he had somewhere to be. He should be going. But to where? In what direction? It was fathomless on all sides, depthless wells of torture for him to wade through; he would surely drown before he ever found the surface again.

It was then as he lay suspended, contorted with the echoes of agony and unable to move, that he heard it. It was muffled at first, unclear, but as he somehow found the strength to chase after it, it became more familiar, unclouded. _Ciel?_ He’d heard him many times through his dreamscapes and recollections, but they were only echoes… These words, this _order_ , it lured him, urged and prodded him; he _must_ obey it. Because his master was calling.

***

There had been a disturbance, a slight upset in the energy that usually flowed flawlessly in Heaven. These things sometimes occurred, usually announcing the birth of an Angel or when one of them Fell; but they all happened with _His_ knowledge, His _permission_. He followed the steady stream of urgent vitality that caused turmoil among his winged creations to its source; it was familiar and _not_ at the same time, and the closer he got, the more his annoyance won out over his initial curiosity.

Yahweh saw him there. He was not so beautiful as he once was, now tarnished with the marks of darkness, plumage oxyn and obscene, the eyes beyond his closed lids lit like the fires of Hades from whence he came. It was blasphemy that Asmodeus should even be in his presence! How had he made it back home? Who had granted him access into his Kingdom? 

The Creator’s hand hovered millimeters over his Fallen son when he finally asked out loud, “Who is responsible for your redemption?” 

Sebastian gasped as he woke as if he hadn’t breathed in ages, his heart stuttering to a start and beating unevenly for long moments as if it had forgotten how to do it properly. His eyes blinked open, the slitted pupils narrowing in the sudden brightness, coming to focus slowly as the unfortunately familiar voice washed over his face. He abruptly pushed the lingering hand away, unkind in the motion as he sat up on the stone he was resting upon, trying to orient himself and seeking Ciel. He hardly had the time to spare on the Father that had abandoned him. 

But of course, he could discern nothing and that was no doubt because of where they were and the will of whomever had put him there. He snorted, finally answering in a snide tone, “Who else?”

Yahweh stood to his full, impressive height, towering over the Unfallen and looking down at him with unconcealed distaste. It lingered there on his tongue, a mix of bitter rejection and acrid defiance. How _dare_ he be spoken to in such a manner. _Prostrate yourself, Asmodeus, _he commanded through his Divine voice; the whole Heavenly Host would hear, they would quake and fall to their knees, heads bent in utmost shame. And yet, the former Angel of Love simply stood there, finally looking at him, but not with the reverent, homesick or cowering eyes he expected or would have found acceptable given their situation.__

__“My half-mortal son?” the Creator finally answered, indifference and apathy coloring his tone once again. And while he couldn’t be bothered with the petty trifles of his playthings, it really did displease him that they were acting of their own free will without his express consent. “Has he done this for the sake of the happiness of his own progeny? Again? I told him he is no longer permitted to meddle in the affairs of humans.”_ _

__It started as a smile, a smirk really and grew into a chuckle and then a laugh. And Sebastian laughed for a good long moment. “Oh Father, has your arrogance really gone so far that you cannot recall another that holds power to rival your own. Surely you remember since you are his reflection,” he replied with a lilting air of dark amusement and condescension, unmoving as he stood before his sire, not at inclined to bow before him. He had found redemption, but not by his Father’s hand and he had no forgiveness for his betrayal, so fresh in his memory as it was._ _

__“Maltheal,” the Creator breathed threateningly with an air of finality. His celestial body buzzed and radiated such divine energy that it should have had the former angel bowed before him in such agony that he would plead his own death anew. Except that it did not; and Yahweh seethed at the contempt with which Asmodeus perceived him. “You’ll soon see, my _son_ that nothing good can come of Death. That he has tried time and time again to _create_ and has failed in each instance, speaks to his lack of talent.You need only look at his fiendish mate and their inability to conceive. Which _god_ cannot continue his own lineage?”_ _

__“Are you so certain of that? After all he doesn’t answer to you, now does he? How would you know life he has conceived? You only ever see what you want to _Father_ ,” Sebastian replied, voice still thick with disdain and malicious amusement. He shifted his wings restlessly, unable to keep from fidgeting, growing more impatient as the elder being delayed him further. Not that he was surprised in the slightest. Everyone was on _God’s_ time…_ _

__Yahweh did not respond to the angel. He had nobody to answer to, and certainly wasn’t going to engage with one as arrogant, as misguided and disrespectful as Asmodeus. He was well-suited for a demonic life and by all accounts, should have remained there. There was no point in obliterating his existence either, if his damnable brother was just going to bring him back to life. The god made himself comfortable, crossing his arms over his chest, content to punish the angel any way he could for is insolence when he simpered, “You look… _agitated_ Asmodeus; do you have somewhere more important to be than talking to your Creator?”_ _

__Sebastian chuckled cynically again and crossed his own arms over his midsection, “Any time I have to spend in your presence could be better spent in my opinion. And though I don’t owe it to you, I do have somewhere much more important to be right now; my _family_ is no doubt waiting for me.”_ _

__“Ay, ya’ren’t wrong boyo. ‘Pologies fer me tardiness. I ‘ad a date o’ me ta attend ta, an’ ya well know ‘ow time jus’ gets ‘way from a man when ‘es wit ‘is mate,” Maltheal said as he stepped through the ether, appearing before the pair and brushing imaginary wrinkles out of his clothing before he looked up at them, gave a little bow and grinned. He glanced over his twin, unscarred reflection that he was, but not a bit of humor in him. But he didn’t speak to him, addressing his nephew again instead, “Ya’re lookin’ well. Good ‘s new iff’n I do say so meself. Well I won’ keep ya. Ya’ve been waiting far too long as t’is. E’s jus’ aways through ther.” He jerked a thumb in the direction from whence he had appeared though there was no visible doorway to be seen._ _

__Sebastian didn’t need to see it though, he could feel the pull. Ciel was on the other side. He did not so much as spare his father a look as he took a step towards the portal, gratitude on his lips as he approached his uncle._ _

__One last time, Yahweh tried to impress his Will upon his Unfallen son, forcing remorse and contrition to the depth of his core where his newly restored grace radiated; the grace he had not ever wanted to regift him. Not after he’d chosen to Fall for a mere _mortal_ , no matter his degree of divinity. It was one thing for his Angels to love humans as he’d decreed, but wholly another for them to pick his playthings over their Father. “Asmodeus,” He called out to the Angel when he saw him turn away to leave, “If you choose to dishonor your Maker in such a way, you give me no other choice than to to barr you from your Home, you and your family. Be wise in your decision, and grateful; none of your kin has been given such an honour.” _ _

__The Angel paused for only the briefest of moments, turning his head to the side to respond with a decidedly impetuous grin, “I already have a home to return to and it is not yours. And you are my Maker no longer so the offense is yours to do with what you will. I can’t say I’ll spend any time at all reflecting upon it. I should say I regret to inform you, but I don’t. I will give you no redemption here; you don’t deserve it.” He promptly turned away again and was gone through the veil before Yahweh could keep him from his beloved for even a heartbeat longer. And then he started running._ _

__As Sebastian disappeared, his last words still echoing in the space between he and his twin, Maltheal started laughing, going so far as to nudge Yahweh as if he should understand the joke. “Now tha’s an ‘appy ending, indn’t, lil brother?” he said as he wiped mirthful tears from his cheeks, still grinning broadly and clapping a soot-stained hand on twin’s shoulder, deceptively amicable in the gesture,“‘Bout your upper management…”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe at approx 14 years old. Thus completes the portraits of the divine Michaelis-Phantomhive clan.


	46. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the Chapter: "My love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live, it will be in your arms without leaving mine." - Pablo Neruda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **  
> **  
> Music  
>   
> 
> [ Max by Lights Down Low ft. Gnash](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-xVwxqjNyI)
> 
>  
> 
> Sebastian~ [ Heaven by Troye Sivan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VNV__mV38s&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=23), [ Dark Necessities by Red Hot Chili Peppers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0oIoR9mLwc), [ Under You by Nick Jonas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKKtUwFXVy4), [ What If by Tokio Hotel ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyIDAzXoliA),   
> Ciel~ [ Turning Pages by Sleeping At Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKBfsz3P7Us) [ Exogenesis Symphony Part 3 by Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbLDFiQM-l8) [ Bloodstream by Stateless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3b1CDLsiGU) [ I Am The Highway by Audioslave](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAfpuiDZV_c)

Poe awoke with a start, scarlet feline eyes blinked open and narrowed swiftly as he shot up to a seated position. He was alone in the nest, but it was warm still as if Ciel had not been long away from his side, but that was not what had suddenly jolted him into wakefulness. There was something… An insistent prodding that was familiar and what was… “Master!” he exclaimed abruptly as his sleep muddled mind finally connected the buzz of the reignited bond between he and Sebastian. Oh the mistress would be so happy. The master was coming home!

_The master was coming home…_ His eyes widened comically. He needed to clear out the guests at least just for a while, knowing, certain that the master and mistress would want their privacy during their reunion. He scrambled out of the nest, stumbling in his haste, seeking out the mistress but crossing paths with his loved ones as they were returning from the surface. He shooed them right back out, gesticulating exuberantly and explaining as he ushered them out that they could return again in the morning, the master was on his way. Soma, Agni, and Lizzie did not argue, vaguely confused and shocked, but too relieved by the news to question the little familiar, all too happy to give their precious friend all the privacy he would need with his returned lover. 

Poe did not even wait for them to make their way up the broad stone steps, already turning back towards where he’d come from and the pool that lay beyond it, sure that he would find Ciel there, following the draw of his own mate swaddled in the mistress’ divinity. He was so excited, steps clumsy and uneven as he swiftly propelled himself towards the inner garden.

Sebastian could remember only one time that he had moved as swiftly, had been as unsteady and graceless with such desperation, but then had been panic, now… Elation. Ciel was waiting with their daughter, breathing, warm, and _safe_. He’d made sure of that. He’d never thought he would see them, hear them, or be able to touch them again, but he had found redemption, been reborn and refashioned into a wholly new kind of Angel, free, but unfallen. He could feel the vague flutter of his familiar as Poe no doubt was shaken by his no longer dormant presence in their bond as he drew closer to the end of the passage. 

It had been too narrow to fly, but once he broke free of the ethereal tunnel, his wings snapped out and cast him into the air, immediately finding and following Ciel’s essence with profound clarity. He found him by the crystalline pool and and inverted waterfall, asleep in a bed of creeping roses whose thorns shied away from his skin for fear of breaking it while the young man slumbered peacefully, hands cradling his belly unconsciously. 

It was not that he did not want to touch him immediately, because he ached to do just that, but he was still for several moments, just drinking him in. It felt as if he hadn’t seen him in millennia and yet as if just yesterday; he’d changed so much since then, but still the same. Beautiful and bright as ever. There was sadness in his scent, but also something hopeful, timid, but growing bolder. And he could hear Aurora thrumming away inside him, eager with recognition. She remembered him.

They were not alone, but they may as well have been because he could not tear his gaze away from his mate long enough to acknowledge his uncle’s silent lover. He would have perhaps thanked him if he could have then, but he was too enamoured, understanding now the depth of the past and future he and Ciel would share together. He was sure the Nephilim would understand anyway. He moved finally, settled himself aside his darlings and ever so gently spread a hand over Ciel’s on his belly where their daughter stirred within. 

Poe came crashing through the garden, tripping over his own feet in his overexcited haste, shouting out garbled calls that his master was coming though Sebastian had already arrived. He yelped as he fell head over feet, tumbling in clumsy somersaults until he bumped into the back of Snake’s legs and came to a dizzied halt. He rubbed at his head and blinked rapidly to try to clear the stars from his vision before he exclaimed an exuberant greeting, “Master!”

Ciel drew in a sharp breath and stiffened. He’d left the comfort of fantasy and unconsciousness, having heard Poe somewhere in his dream-addled mind, awakening to being fed again by an aura; but that it was not Snake’s was the only thing he could be sure of. It was infinitely stronger and sweeter. More protective and nourishing. He knew it but didn’t. It was familiar, but different; contained within it a paradox: a darkness so dark, not only was it beautiful, it was illuminating. 

And that’s when he noticed _his_ scent, and _his_ clawed, soot-tipped hands upon his belly, but he daren’t look. He’d hoped for how long now? Had wished for it, begged for it, even leveraged his very soul for it. He trembled as he turned his head ever so slightly to the side, first looking down at the resplendent scaled limb draped over him, the defined musculature of the forearm cradling him to the strong bicep and shoulder, then stopped. 

Ciel’s breath came in shallow pants now, lips parting to accommodate them, but the rest of his body was unmoving, too afraid; what if something happened to shatter this reality? He should close his eyes again, but of course he couldn’t. Instead, they followed the progression from shoulder to the smooth dip at the base of the neck then up and up. 

His eyes blinked rapidly in astonished disbelief. It _was_ real. Not a memory this time, not a dream. _Real_. He scanned Sebastian’s face, his lips, his cheeks, his nose and settled on the hypnotic dance of the crimson blaze that lit the demon’s eyes. Ciel couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop staring, was engulfed by the fiery depths and lost to them, yet still frozen amidst their flames. After an endless, agonizing moment, his own voice resonated in their bond, absorbed rather than left hanging and abandoned, _Soulmate?_

Snake picked up the small familiar, holding him beneath his bottom and carrying him away from the lovely scene unfolding. Ciel would be alright now. “Come little one, let’s leave them to their reunion…” he told Poe. 

“But I want to stay,” Poe whined softly, lacing his arms around the Nephilim's sparsely scaled neck, “I missed the Master too.” 

Snake nodded in understanding, pulling his neck away to look the little boy in the eyes, ready to mesmerize him if the need arose. “Shhh.. I know you did, but it’s almost time for _her_ isn’t it? Don’t you want to look your best? Let’s get you cleaned up at Ciel’s apartment, maybe Miss Elizabeth will even cut your hair?” And when Snake saw that Poe was about to protest, he added, “We’ll even stop along the way and buy her a special gift.” Asmodeus’ little pet’s face lit up and he let himself be carried up the stone steps. 

Before they left Eden altogether, Poe made Snake stop at the top of the staircase so that he could blow a kiss in the direction of the lovers and wave to his mate, “See you soon!” 

As Snake and Poe left the garden, Sebastian’s roses crept in closer around the lovers, shading them in further privacy, intimately dimming the lighting where they lay. His eyes searched Ciel’s for a long moment as the young man’s voice echoed in his head. _Yes, my darling, as you’ve always been mine,_ he answered in kind, voice murmured through the bond that was swiftly knitting itself back into wakefulness after the dormancy of the last months that had past. He raised one hand from its place on Ciel’s belly to cup his face tenderly, a calm and fond smile on his lips as he spoke further, the husky words on his breath instead of in his mate’s mind, “How I’ve missed you…”

With a small grunt that Ciel unsuccessfully tried to suppress, he turned himself over to face his lover. His swollen belly pushed up against the demon’s taut one, forcing him back a little. The mortal’s brow furrowed at the awkwardness of it, and returned Sebastian’s hand to it. Both of them. In compensation for the small distance it put between them, Ciel tangled his chilly feet with the demon’s legs, and brought his tear-streaked face to his lover’s. His voice faltered, then broke when he finally addressed him, “We… We’ve missed you, so much Sebastian.” 

Sebastian’s fingertips kneaded at Ciel’s belly in gentle slow circles as he watched him struggle with his words. He curved his body in around his mate’s, accommodating the rounded out mound of Ciel’s midsection where their daughter resided, as much closing the distances between them as the young man was. “Do you forgive me for making you wait?” he asked breathily, lips brushing his lover’s as his fangs peeked between them, with ever present mischief and such warmth in the liquid garnet of his feline eyes.

Ciel smiled and for the first time in so long, it was genuine. It was as though his lips simply molded themselves to Sebastian’s, curling at the corners in tandem with his lover’s. He touched his forehead to the demon’s, basking in his presence and his warmth, breathing him in and dragging it down to his core to feed their daughter. He felt her pulse and shift excitedly and her bliss became his bliss. He was enraptured, speechless, rendered unable to form words without sobbing and relied on their bond to communicate, _I made you wait millennia, and you took me back; even without remembering, imprisoned by my lineage, left bitter and hungry, and you still found it in your heart to love me._

_You made it impossible not to my darling,_ Sebastian replied fondly, sharing his elation, proud and pleasant, and above all adoring, _Just as impossible as it is not to love our Aurora. She’s grown so much already. I should have been here._ He held Ciel tighter, one hand slipping to the small of his back as his other stroked at his belly, his aura brushing against their daughter’s with ticklish affection. He had never been so grateful to be alive as he was then.

“Yes, you should have,” Ciel replied, the hint of petulance he felt helping him find his voice again. It wasn’t the only thing it encouraged; possessiveness and longing surged and Ciel eagerly fit his head in the notch between his lover’s neck and shoulder, desperate to rid Sebastian of Heaven’s scent and stain his lover’s skin with his own. He hummed covetously as he moved from his neck to his chest, mouthing the flesh as he went, nuzzling the warm expanse under his cheek and lifting his wet lashes to look into the demon’s eyes. The sight that met him combined with the the sound of Sebastian’s heart thundering in his ears, proof of his life, of his return, softened the mortal. “... But it’s not too late for you to make it up to us… to _me_.”

_Mm, is that so?_ Sebastian’s silky voice caressed through their bond, the tone carrying his desire and adoration with it. He shifted, settling Ciel over him as he sprawled beneath him on his back, wings half spread under him and cushioning the young man’s knees in the new position. He smiled up at his lover, the tips of his sharp teeth pressing into his bottom lip impishly as he palmed Ciel’s hips and thumbed along the sides of his lover’s belly, rolling his hips up against Ciel’s backside lazily.

Despite himself, Ciel flushed at being put on display in such a manner for his mate. His eyes no longer met Sebastian’s but rather they took in the bulge that peeked through one of his lover’s oversized dress shirts. In fact, Aurora had grown so much just in the past month that he’d had to leave the bottom six buttons unfastened. He knew the stretch marks that marred the bottom of his belly and climbed upwards would be visible as well as his belly button, which until two months ago had gone from being an adorable innie to a full-blown outtie. The slight arousal that had been there moments prior was replaced with crippling self-consciousness, and so, gently, he brushed the demon’s hands aside, replacing them with his own around his midsection. “Am I too heavy for you? I can just…” but Ciel didn’t finish. There could be no hiding the little princess, and the evidence left by her growth no matter what position he took. 

“Impossible,” Sebastian argued immediately, “You're perfect just as you are.” He traced his fingers over the stretch marks that oddly seemed to be sized and patterned just for that purpose, as if they'd been left there by his hands. His arousal strained against the midnight linen of the draped garments he'd woken in and he ground up against Ciel firmly as his nimble tail slithered up the back of his mate’s borrowed shirt to curl possessively around his throat, no threat behind the affectionate gesture.

Ciel’s head fell to the side, eyes rolling back and he let out an involuntary, soft “Mmn…” as the tips of his fingers fondled the length of the tail caressing his throat. He moved against Sebastian restlessly, rising when he felt the heat and strain beneath his rear, eliciting a longer, drawn out moan. It spilled from his lips and was absorbed by the overgrown garden, waking the sapphire-lit butterflies from their millennia-long slumber and scattering them among the silver-blue roses newly blooming and adorning Eden. 

Sebastian’s fingers kneaded at his mate’s flesh a moment longer before they began to wander further up, unfastening his shirt deftly as he went. A low, feral sound of approval rumbled in his chest as he looked up at Ciel, the backdrop of glittering blue butterflies and his roses framing him exquisitely. “So lovely,” he breathed huskily as he thumbed over peaked and no doubt sensitive nipples lightly. He tilted his head and lowered his lashes as he watched his mate’s reactions to his touch, the steady roll of his hips unfaltering as he rutted up against the young man’s backside, “It’s been so long since I’ve known your skin my darling. See how it flushes and begs for my touch. How could I possibly deny you?”

A pleasured hiss broke through Ciel’s teeth when Sebastian began to roll his nipples between thumb and forefinger. His hand came up to hold the demons’ still against his chest, then to push them down along the slope of his belly and lower. “It's not the same flesh it once was. It's stretched to accommodate another soul, and these marks have replaced the runes and claiming bites you left once upon a time. It’s also been made more sensitive,” a gentle shudder rocked him from his nape to the base of his spine and he gasped as he led Sebastian’s hand beneath the barrier of his boxer shorts, “And Ahhh… more responsive. It's needier, and so am I… so you'll have to learn it all over again.”

“It will be my pleasure my darling,” the Unfallen replied in a decidedly sultry tone, gently stroking his fingers along the soft and vaguely damp skin his mate had guided him to. His other hand slid up Ciel's back, coaxing the material of the shirt down Ciel's shoulders before he caressed along the side of his neck and over where his mating mark had faded considerably, tracing a thumb over it tenderly and feeling it heat beneath his touch, buzzing with recognition. “Do you think the marks I branded onto you can be removed so easily love? They aren't gone, just dormant in your soul. I will take the utmost care in waking them,” he murmured as he leaned up and drew Ciel in to press his mouth against the boy's pulse just beneath his left ear, whispering heatedly against the soft flushed skin, “Slowly… Until they've remembered where it is they are supposed to be...”

As greedy, soot-painted nails caressed Ciel’s body, accompanied by lips, tongue and teeth, the promises etched on his soul lit his flesh like the constellations illuminating the darkest of night skies. The once barren and desolate expanse of skin was now beautiful and familiar; the runes undulating in their colouring like the Aurora Borealis for which their daughter was named. 

The energy he thought had perished along with his mate resurged; it was raw and purposeful, and coursed through him, flooding his veins with divinity and longing. He pulled away from Sebastian, a glint of mischief as he gently pushed him onto his back again, the tips of his fingers skimming the silken flesh and flawless planes of his defined torso until it reached the black linen. It sparked there, igniting and consuming every inch of the gifted cloth, turning it into midnight smoky tendrils that twisted and billowed into the ether. Ciel palmed his mate’s side tenderly, kneading his flesh with renewed interest now that it was completely exposed. The life within him stirred, as though she could feel the influx of heat now pooling in Ciel’s belly as he had begun to ground himself a little more enthusiastically against his lover’s length. 

“Sebastian,” Ciel asked, unexpectedly halting his movements, cringing and whispering to his lover, “What if she can… you know… I mean she understands after all... “ 

“Mmn,” Sebastian hummed smoothing one hand up and down Ciel’s side, soothing the vague fluttering inside him and curled his fingers around his mate’s length, pushing the shorts down lower on his lover’s hips idly. He ran his thumb beneath the head of Ciel’s cock, watching him through his dark lashes as he rolled his own hips into each downward rut from his mate and half smirked up at him. “She doesn’t _know_ darling. She can just feel the energies being exchanged and feeding her and you. You’ve been craving something haven’t you, but nothing you’ve had has satisfied the need?” he said amusedly, a chuckle in his tone as he pressed his naked arousal between the plush cheeks of Ciel’s backside, slicking them and teasingly rubbing over the eager little entrance hidden there. He could smell the intoxicating and irresistible scent of his mate’s wanting and feel every ripple of heat beneath his skin as the runes of his many vows rekindled there.

“I know _exactly_ what I’ve been craving Sebastian,” Ciel told his lover through clenched teeth, one hand on Sebastian’s tensing abdomen to steady himself while the other drifted back, finding the tip of the demon’s length prodding the small of his back and gripping it. He rocked his hips, only slightly withdrawing his cock then driving it back into Sebastian’s fist. Their bodies moved together and the friction wrested a carnal, shuddering moan from deep in the mortal’s throat. When he finally spoke, his voice was a rough, begging tone saturated with lust and hunger, “Missed you, love. Feed me… need you, please Sebastian…” 

“As you wish my darling,” Sebastian returned, more than eager to follow the order. Their contract was up, had been for months now, but the mark of it had not faded and even free of its devastating pull, he had sought out his little master. Contract or no, he would always find Ciel. He smiled at his own musings, growling his pleasure as Ciel’s nimble fingers stroked blindly at what he could reach of his manhood and still leisurely stroking his lover’s in turn. 

His other hand moved to the young man’s underwear still clinging to and trapping Ciel’s thighs. And he ran a single claw up the seam, splitting it with a whisper of cloth parting before he pushed the material away to finally leave his mate entirely bare for him. He slid that same hand up along his lover’s thigh, kneading reverently and drawing his claws along the flesh tenderly before he snaked it beneath the press of Ciel’s backside. He traced swiftly slickening digits over the fluttering entrance and dipped inside tauntingly, reveling in the shudder that was elicited from his little lover and the heated cry that accompanied it. “I’ve missed and craved you as well sweetling. I love you so,” he murmured, the words washing over Ciel like living things, caressing and impressing themselves onto his skin, warm with devotion and desire.

Ciel moistened his lips as he drew in a deep, uneven breath through his nose and expelled it through trembling, barely-parted lips. He rose to his knees, one hand cradling his belly, letting the demon’s cock drag between his cheeks until it sprung free altogether, then bore back down on Sebastian’s fingers, trapping his lover’s erection under his bottom. His own length was positively aching and though his swollen midsection concealed the jutting organ, he felt it pulse angrily after having been neglected all those months. He pushed down on it with the heel of his palm, pressing it against his lover’s; their mutual arousal made more obvious by how slickly they rubbed together, sharing and spreading their very distinct essences between both his hands around them. “I didn’t think… Hnnng… I’d ever be able to be with you like this again,” Ciel panted, trying his best to show some restraint, but failing miserably at it. 

Sebastian surrendered his grip on Ciel’s cock, watching as his lover took over the task, stroking them both clumsily in his needy state. The Unfallen hummed his approval huskily and crooked his fingers inside his lover in search of the familiar sweet spot as Ciel rutted back against them greedily. “I didn’t think I would either, but I didn’t stop trying to come back to you… I remember now, everything… The need now is as unrelenting as it was then,” his voice was sultry, somewhat smokey and thick with his wanting and he rocked his fingers out and in again, teasingly brushing Ciel’s prostate before repeating the motion over again.

“E-every… everything?” Ciel asked in throaty, stuttering gasps as Sebastian’s clever finger slid and twisted into his channel. The sides of his belly contracted and hardened; evidence of his nearing peak. He continued to rock his body, thrusting into his own hand alongside Sebastian’s cock, recalling their earlier exploits. _You remember the stall you cleared in the busy Jerusalem market after that crook smashed my grandmother’s dish? You mended it and I desperately needed to show you my gratitude. How I got on my knees and worshipped you, uncaring of the observers? Oh how you begged for me, my love..._

The mortal gave a guttural cry when another digit was added and then another, occasionally pulling out, and lubricating itself to massage the rim then delving even deeper inside. _And what of the candle play in the Temple after the weekly service, Asmodeus? How you reveled in pouring the warm wax on my supple flesh as I lay writhing blissfully for you upon the altar, screaming your name..._

The memories of their sacrilegious deeds had Ciel smirking and bucking eagerly into Sebastian’s hand, crying with every incursion of the demon’s fingers against his sensitive spot. _And when you baptised me in Aenon near Salim, where John had done his work; only to summon nearby twine to allow me to bind you to an olive tree and have my way with you? You left the burn marks upon your wrists for weeks, you were so proud to be claimed by your mortal..._ His heavy-lidded eyes were clouded and full of desire and he looked at Sebastian with an expression of deepest need and warning. He was so close.

Sebastian used his wings to leverage himself as he leaned up, contorting his body to accommodate for his mate’s rounded belly and craning his neck to press his mouth to the sensitive little space where jaw met ear. “ _Everything…_ ” he breathed wickedly over the soft flesh, nipping teasingly, and smirking against his lover’s skin, “In fact, I’d like to revisit some of those memories together once Aurora is born.” He slid his finger out of his mate abruptly before he could be consumed by the sensation of the slick passage tensing and gripping around them greedily in desperate preparation for his peak. _Not yet my darling,_ he soothed through their bond, caressing Ciel’s hips with his hands before he abruptly gripped them, drawing back as he lifted his mate effortlessly, forcing Ciel to relent his hold on his manhood. Freed, it twitched and bobbed vaguely, throbbing and leaking pearly beads of precum, eager to embed itself in CIel as Sebastian slowly lowered him onto it.

“Hah… ahhh, s-stop… Too… too big, Sebastian!” Ciel cried out as the tip of his lover's cock eased into him one torturous inch at a time. His nails dug into the demon’s sides, fingers spasming and raking the flesh and drawing blood as he tried desperately to restrain from letting himself to sink onto it. It had been too long since their last time, he wasn't used to it anymore and something about being pregnant had made him oversensitive. He hummed in deepest concentration, eyes pinched, lip caught between his teeth and begged through their bond, _Please Seabstian… please, please, help me. I want you so much..._

“Shh, it’s alright love, just breathe… It does feel a bit too snug, doesn’t it? We’ll just have to work our way back up to it,” Sebastian murmured, voice gravelly with pleasure and restraint, adjusting the size of his manhood to suit his mate. It had been too long since he’d had him last for his lover to be able to take his natural length, but he was not disappointed. He would do anything for Ciel. As long as they could feel one another with no spaces between them, he would happily make any accommodations his mate required.

Once he’d reduced the size of his inhuman arousal, he assisted his lover in further burying it within the rippling heat. He hissed his pleasure over Ciel’s skin, lips, tongue and teeth mapping whatever flesh he could reach and he rolled his hips up in a slow, but powerful motion, holding fast to the young man’s hips to keep him grounded. _There now… That’s better, hm?_

“Yesss!” Ciel meant for his answer to simply be one of confirmation, but it came out excited, somewhere between a hiss and scream. He leaned forward, guiding Sebastian’s hands away from his hips and grasped them for support, before he began moving up and down his lover’s rigid length. He rode his mate, completely unapologetic for the erratic rhythm; sometimes swiveling his hips much too slowly and other times grinding forward and back too quickly. Sweat dripped from his hairline into the hollow notch of his neck and down his chest where it met the apex of his swollen midsection then ran down either side of it. 

Sebastian growled breathily, following the erratic rhythm Ciel had set in his pursuit of bliss. He tangled his fingers with his lover’s, tenderly dug his nails into the back of Ciel’s soft hands, enough to be felt, but not breaking the delicate flesh as he moved with him. His gaze was heavily lidded, veiled in midnight lashes and smoldering like embers, a pleased smirk teasing over his lips, fangs peeking out between them. He bucked up into his mate forcefully, expanding his manhood some as Ciel’s body eagerly accepted him. _That’s it my darling, take what you need from me. I’m yours,_ he whispered silkily through their bond as his tail slithered over Ciel’s hip to coil around his straining cock, cradling the head upon the spaded tip as he squeezed in time with his mate’s pulse.

Sebastian’s love and adoration bled through their bond, and Ciel welcomed it, let it build up until it filled every crevice, beat back his melancholy and broke through the desolation that had made itself home at his core in his absence. His thighs shook against Sebastian’s hips as he lifted himself some inches and slammed down hard again, groaning while his lover reciprocated by bucking wildly under him, carnal snarls creeping up from his throat. Ciel thrashed violently on his mate’s lap, his gasping, panting breaths coming faster and faster as the spaded tip of the tail caressed, stroked and tapped his cock’s throbbing head. It crashed over him at that moment, had him stilling and arching, sobbing and riding the shuddering echoes of his orgasm, spilling onto his lover in thick, pearlescent spurts. And all there was in his world was Sebastian. Taste and feel, scent and sound. His lover. Returned to him, whole and beautiful and utterly devoted. 

The Unfallen’s thrusts gentled as Ciel’s channel spasmed around his manhood, the slowed motions prolonging the young man’s climax. He held him through it as his lover shook, shuddered and choked on his sobbing breaths while he was lost in Sebastian’s touch for long moments and anchored by the bond that bound them to one another. His voice was smoky, soothing as he spoke tender praise and devotion in the language of Heaven and his fingertips kneaded the bruised flesh of his lover’s hips.

He was careful when he lifted the near boneless young man from his lap, maneuvering the both of them with easy familiarity. He shifted onto his knees, sitting back on his feet and turned Ciel, positioning his lover’s legs comfortably to either side of him before he guided him back onto his still hard and aching cock. His hands slid around his mate from behind, drawing him back against his chest, one hand spread and supporting his mate’s belly, the eager flutter of life under his palm while his other spread over Ciel’s chest where his heart beat with a heavy throb. He buried his face in the crook of his beloved’s neck and mouthed at his nape before his teeth found purchase there and he moaned, unable to remain still and rutting up into his mate when the bittersweet blood flooded his mouth in the wake of his claiming. _My soulmate… My Ciel… My Family… Mine…_

Ciel’s fingers found Sebastian’s and laced themselves with familiarity. He let the demon dictate their pace, let him bury his need deep within his mortal body and rolled back his hips lazily into each and every one of his lover’s gentle upward thrusts. “Harder Sebastian,” he demanded, his voice weak with exhaustion. The contrast was even more noticeable through their connection; his blood sang for his beloved, fed him, drew him closer to his mate. He felt the suction on his neck increase with bruising force and the teeth pierce the muscle, causing white hot pain to radiate through his body, electrifying and reviving all thirty-seven trillion cells. He hadn't felt this alive since they'd parted ways. “Harder!” he cried, wrapping his arms possessively around his spouse’s neck, “Harder! Mine! My Soulmate… My Sebastian… Mine… Mine…” 

Sebastian made a feral sound somewhere between a growl and a moan, gripping Ciel harder, claws kissing his mate’s delicate skin with such a tender sting that it wept beads of sanguine divinity. More primal calls and possessive snarls sounded from his lips and in their bond as he followed the order, allowing his need to overwhelm him, letting the last hold on whatever restraint he’d had break. His movements became rougher, more powerful, forceful as he drove up into Ciel, and faster as the knotted base of his cock flared in warning. He dropped his head over his lover’s shoulder, one hand trailing up the side of the younger male’s throat to guide Ciel’s mouth to the pale column of his own. _Take of me my darling. It’s time you know immortality,_ he voiced in the language of Angels; he would not wait any longer. Neither of them would know loneliness again. Never again.

Ciel rasped, lips trembling against Sebastian’s neck as they dampened it with heated breath and bathed it, sliding his tongue across the soft, smooth surface. When he finally felt the warning throb within, he surrendered every bit of mortality he had to the heavens and bit down hard. Before the intimate sensation of Sebastian’s bold, succulent essence fed his core, he was overwhelmed by the surge of _angelic_ aura that filled it. It was bright and illuminating but soft and resplendent as moonlight. Above all, it was _familiar_ , an almost exact replica of his daughter’s _grace_. Ciel’s mouth left his lover’s flesh only to claim his lips, swallowing Sebastian’s groans and growls as a second orgasm ripped through him. Overhead, stars fell in Eden by the hundreds, dimming their surroundings and intensifying their needy sounds against the otherwise quiet backdrop. 

A husky possessive and pleasured groan vibrated in Sebastian’s chest as his mate accepted, sank his teeth into the offered flesh without hesitation and drank of him, heartily gulping down the immortal essence, sharing in the grace of the Unfallen Angel, changing him, reflecting what he’d always been; more than human. And when his lips sought Sebastian’s, his were there to meet them, impassioned with devotion hanging on every breath, hands holding him, cradling probably too tight as he forced his engorged manhood inside Ciel a final time, body taut and shaking as he filled him, claimed him beneath the storm of stars overhead and lost himself in the wells of bliss that was his connection with his soulmate, his one.

A series of rapturous, stuttered sighs, new promises and tender touches later, Ciel went limp in his lover’s arms and was vaguely aware of being carried bridal style through the long grasses and wild flowers. His swollen feet and ankles brushed against the silken tips of rose petals and he giggled into Sebastian’s chest as they tickled his bare skin. They’d scarcely taken their eyes off one another since leaving the edge of the lagoon, recommitting every curve, every line of their appearance to memory, devouring every expression, speaking volumes and sharing wishes and desires without so much a thought or word being exchanged. Once he was laid onto his side in the nest he and Poe had worked on so diligently, his hand cupped Sebastian’s face and thumbed over his cheek affectionately, “I’m sorry, it’s not like last time; we tried our best.” 

“Nonsense,” Sebastian argued in a husky murmur, propping his head on one hand and smiling as Ciel touched his face, “You did a fine job. And now that I’m back, I can add my own contribution, can’t I?” He turned his head to kiss Ciel’s palm affectionately as his unoccupied hand reached back to pluck out a handful of thick, silky charcoal feathers, his tail draping itself over his mate’s hip and lazily flicking back and forth.

“Not now-” Ciel said, urgently slapping his mate’s tail against his hip, then wrapped his hand twice around it to trap Sebastian by his side, “don’t leave me.” He’d only begun to feel whole and the thought of any distance between them roused his previous anxiety. But it wasn’t just for him, Aurora had been too still in the past twenty minutes or so; she had been quite active during their lovemaking. He drummed his fingers rhythmically on the side of his belly, his head falling forward some to whisper to her with an air of slight desperation, “Princess? Hey, did you fall asleep? Talk to her Sebastian, please…” 

The Unfallen chuckled, endeared by his mate’s fussing, and nodded. He trailed lazy kisses along the side of Ciel’s neck, pressing him back into the nest tenderly and discreetly tucking the plucked plumes around the young man as he worked his way down to Ciel’s belly. His lips ghosted against his skin as his hands framed the firm mound and he murmured quietly to the quietly pulsing life within, “You’ve been so patient my little darling. We’ve all been waiting so long to meet properly, haven’t we? Just a little while longer now, hm? We can all use a rest…” He felt a vague thrumming of affirmation from the baby girl housed inside his lover, smiled and pressed a lingering kiss there as he looked up through his lashes fondly at Ciel.

“Mmm, there she is…” Ciel interrupted huskily, heat burning pleasantly beneath the surface of his skin as he arched his back in a sad attempt to stretch. “I can’t sleep on my back anymore in this state; look at me, I’m huge, Sebastian. Do you even still desire me?” He craned his neck, grunting at the strain it took to look over his belly at his mate, but didn’t let him answer, “I mean, I know we… but it’d been so long, and you being who you are and all…” His bottom lip trembled and tears welled up in his eyes, clinging to the root of his lashes. Damn it, he’d managed not to get over-emotional for the whole of his gestation, but now with his mate here, he could barely keep it together. He pressed on, getting all nine months of pregnant grumbling and bellyaching out in a single breath, “My back hurts so much, and so do my ankles. Will you rub them for me? I don’t even have breasts and Snake said I’m _not_ producing milk so why am I so tender there? I cramp up for _no_ reason, I’m gassy _and_ bloated...” And because he couldn’t whine enough in his voice, he continued simultaneously through their bond, _And I’m always hungry. So hungry, Sebastian. I want chocolate and popcorn ice cream. Does that even **exist**? I don’t care if it does. You’re a powerful entity, make it happen for me love…_ “And the nausea really hasn’t subsided _at all_. Whoever called it morning sickness was lying…” 

Sebastian nodded along, a fond smile curving his lips, diligently listening to his mate’s complaints without argument. _I’m sorry I wasn’t here to make it easier on you my love, but I’ll make up for it, I promise. Starting right now,_ he declared, leaning in to press a kiss to his lover’s trembling lips, pulling away after a drawn moment to murmur, “Turn onto your side for me sweetling.” He assisted his mate into the requested position, continuing in their bond with no small amount of adoration, _You ask if I still desire you as if there could be any other answer. Does the sun still rise in the east? Does the tide still chase after the moon? You’re beautiful Ciel and there is only you for me. I do not know how not to desire you my darling. Can’t you feel it?_ He kneaded at Ciel’s shoulders tenderly, careful with his fingertips around the reddening and raw skin where the delicate new bone of what were no doubt wings had begun to make itself known. He soothed away the discomfort along with the tension in his little lover, beginning to hum that ever familiar and favoured lullaby while he spoke again through their bond, _I do have one question though; did you want chocolate or vanilla ice cream?_

_Neither. I don’t want ice cream anymore. I want waffles. Piled high with forest fruit and whipped cream. **A lot of whipped cream**. And a drizzle of caramel. Just a drizzle though,_ he answered a little petulantly, but it was through the soft smile that spread across his lips as he exhaled the tension that had built up in his body. He felt the adoration of which the once-demon spoke. He felt it with every press of his lover’s caressing fingers into his flesh, with every strong, down feather he snuck into their nest, with every pulse of his aura that cradled their family. As Sebastian worked his way from shoulder to back, to thigh and ankle then gently rolled him over to do the other side, Ciel sank into a very different kind of bliss than the one he’d chased hours ago. 

He curled into Sebastian when sleep finally won the battle over his heavy lids, comfortable with velvety midnight wings blanketing him snuggly against his lover. His eyes opened intermittently to make sure it hadn’t been a dream, that the sweetened breath washing over him was his mate’s, as with the arms that pulled him closer and the arousal that, every so often, pushed up unconsciously against his belly. Ciel moaned at the insistent, eager pressure that woke him this time and rose to his knees, adamant to return the favour of easing his soulmate’s desires. “Ooph…” he groaned, needing to hold onto his mate’s chest for support, balling his fists then leaning his head against Sebastian’s forehead when the sharp, familiar pain did not subside. “Mmm… Ahh… Sebastian…” he quaked between panted, broken breaths, “Wake up, it’s time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	47. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, the story has come full circle. Thanks for taking a chance on this fic and joining us on this incredible journey. We hope you enjoyed it and that it made you _feel_ a host of different things. It sure had that effect on us. 
> 
> When we started, it was our first Kuroshitsuji fanfic either one of us had ever written, and now here we are less than a year later, completely smitten with the two of them, their chemistry, completely unable to stop rambling about Ciel and Sebastian in a variety of different situations. We hope you'll join us for those as well. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy the last chapter of Divine is the Soul That Sates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moral of the chapter: Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending. - Carl Bard
> 
> **Music**  
>  Sebastian~ [](https://www.google.ca/search?q=from+eden+lyrics&rlz=1C1CHBF_enCA758CA758&oq=from+e&aqs=chrome.3.69i57j69i60j0l2j69i60j0.3896j0j9&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8) From Eden by Hozier[ Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMBTvuUlm98&index=144&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)[ Lightning Crashes by Live](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsJ4O-nSveg&index=342&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO)   
> Ciel~ [Stand by Me by Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vv2DSmy3Tro) [When The Day Met the Night by Panic! At The Disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFu13Yw_ssw) [I Would Do Anything For You by Foster the People](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOIfNyBmZ0g) [Feels Like Home by Chantal Kreviazuk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6eNp1vCsuU)   
> Poe~ [ A Thousand Years by Christina Perri](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00&list=PLzH6aZP7ZJ5ar9g8-vecxRDrR7nlhYPvO&index=141)  
> Aurora~ [Asylum by Silverchair](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hN7TQ6zmjR8)   
> Maltheal~ [ Stellar by Incubus](https://www.google.ca/search?q=stellar+lyrics&rlz=1C1CHBF_enCA758CA758&oq=stellar&aqs=chrome.1.69i57j0l5.2270j0j9&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8)  
> Snake~ [My Favourite Thing by Silverchair](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-Qwutbm1fs&list=PLELkoVcZz8to4VZajtqSDFF5E4Xh-5Yg3&index=40)

Sebastian woke with a start, breath catching as his lashes fluttered open and his ovaled pupils narrowed and he jerked upright, drawn by the heavy throbbing in their bond and the scent of distressed insistence rolling off his mate. “What… What is it?” he asked groggily, slow to grasp what Ciel had actually said. He blindly reached out and settled a hand on Ciel’s belly, blinking away the fog as he felt it contract, tensing spasmodically as the young man cried out again. “Shit…” he whispered, the sentiment echoed in their bond, excited and nervous, proud and elated and terrified all rolled into one as he finally made the connection. Their daughter had run out of patience. 

“Laaaaaaaanguage!” Ciel shrieked, chastising his mate and feebly beating his fist against Sebastian’s chest. “Jesus F-fucking Christ, it hurts!” He took great panting breaths but refused to imitate the awful technique Lizzie had demonstrated for him, making sure to inhale irregularly so he didn’t end up groaning a rendition of _We Will Rock You_. Everything he was feeling was a contradiction; one moment he wanted to be soothed physically by Sebastian, the next he was liable to destroy his lover by setting him on fire for so much as thinking of touching him. He wanted to hear his spouse’s calming, reassuring voice through _one_ series of contractions, but wanted absolute silence in both voice and bond the next. _I’m sorrrrrrry Sebastian, literally nothing you’ll do will be okay until she’s out…_

“Shh, it’s alright sweetling,” Sebastian cooed shakily, his garnet eyes wide and vaguely flickering with mad panic, uncertain what to do. He wasn’t as prepared as he’d been last time though he’d never gotten to put any of it into practice. He shook his head; now was not the time for lamenting, damn it. He began to croon, trying to soothe Ciel some as he shifted about, maneuvering his mate as gently as possible to lay back in the nest. So focused on the pulsing of the echoing pain in Ciel and the excited flutters that sporadically came from their daughter was he, that he hadn't register his familiar’s return until Poe had clambered into the nest and sidled up above Ciel’s head, offering his lap to cushion it and immediately reaching to tenderly touch the mistress’ hair and face comfortingly. Sebastian was relieved for that because he couldn’t exactly do it himself when he had the daunting task of retrieving Aurora from within his mate. 

Ciel smiled weakly at Poe in sincere thanks before turning to Sebastian again. He was in the process of pulling in a sharp breath between his teeth, as he worked his way through the sharp, unrelenting spasm that radiated from the base of his spine upwards. He wiped the tears freely flowing from the right side of his face with the back of his hand and rotated his wrist, curling his finger to beckon his lover closer. When Sebastian obeyed, more swiftly than was humanly possible, he grabbed fistfuls of the Unfallen’s feathered wings and yanked him closer still, until they were nose to nose. “It’s not bloody alright…” he seethed in a whisper, then added more loudly, “Twice, Sebastian! Twice you’ve done this to me! If you want any more kids after this, be ready to carry them… Ahhhhh… yourself!” He didn’t let go of his mate. Couldn’t. He simply rested his head against his lover’s, as his screams nearly drowned out the repetitive _I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…_ that echoed sobbingly through their bond. 

Sebastian’s crooning became louder, echoed in their bond, unoffended by his mate’s words as he tried to remember how he had planned to deliver their daughter that first time. He’d had to ask a number of his kin in order to learn how it was to be done since Ciel was neither angel or devil, lacking the ability to adjust his physical gender and thus could not birth the child in the usual way. Certainly it would have been easier for him to carry their offspring, but it was not the way things had turned out. He’d had no choice in it as it had been a miracle they’d scarcely been expecting.

As Ciel rested against him, whimpering and sobbing shakily after each agonizing ripple of contraction and broken cry that accompanied it, his hands began to move of their own accord, instinct finally taking over from his panic. _If we should be so blessed with another, I would proudly bare it my darling. It’s only fair after all,_ his hushed and vaguely hoarse mental voice sounded belatedly. A sort of intense and determined calm settled over him, low thrumming hums and dulcet croons rumbling repeatedly in his chest in rhythm with the steady throb of his heartbeat, paced with nervous and elated anticipation as he finally knew what to do. He smoothed his hands over his mate’s sides, his hips and belly and beneath the arch of his back, sending tingling waves of numbing relief through him as he prepared to receive their daughter. And he smiled ever so gently as he coaxed Ciel back once more. 

Ciel’s breathing evened out as the numbing effects of his lover’s special brand of anesthetic spread through his body; and as he calmed, so did their daughter. _Thank you,_ he murmured through the link that sent only adoration and encouragement his way. His hand found Sebastian’s at the side of the spasming mound and squeezed it while his inner voice had relaxed sufficiently to walk his mate through his previous delivery as best as he could, confirming what Sebastian had already recalled. 

Feeling his mate’s confidence grow, he finally tilted his head back to meet Poe’s exalted gaze. “Sooooon,” he whispered to the familiar in a drawn out breath. His lips twitched and curled into a slight smile against the considerate fanning gesture the little boy had incited with his wings, ridding Ciel of the sweat that had begun to bead along his face and neck. “D-distract me, Poe, talk to me,” he pleaded, the nervous energy coming to a head as he felt his lover’s hands moving along his belly with sure, decided motions, trying to determine the best positioning to both lessen his lover’s discomfort and increase his success in safely delivering Aurora. He winced, dug his feet into the earth and arched his back a little when Sebastian fingers pressed a little more insistently against his skin. “T-tell me where you hid all your Master’s gifts… you little imp. You… you kept them all, d-idn’t you?” 

Poe’s gaze flickered from his master’s hands as they pressed insistently into Ciel’s flesh to the young man’s. He smiled brightly at him even as he wrapped his arms around Ciel, effectively limiting his movements so that Sebastian could proceed with the delicate delivery of their daughter, his mate. “Of course mistress. They are my precious treasures,” he answered, bowing his head to murmur quietly as if it was a secret. His hold tightened when Sebastian’s fingers slid into the flesh, a vague smoky violet glow spreading from the contact and Ciel tensed and he quickly went on, “There is a special place behind the waterfall where the walls are all sparkly with blue and purple crystals and lots of good places to tuck treasures away. That’s where I keep them. And there’s more than just the Master’s gifts there Mistress.”

“Ahhh… Sebastian!” Ciel screeched, kicking his legs about when he felt the heated touch penetrate his flesh, and send a fresh new wave of pain searing through his belly. He was vaguely aware of his lover straddling them to keep them from flailing, while his awkward thrashing was halted by Poe’s restraining hold. The familiar’s head bowed over his own, the soft midnight strands obscuring his view of what his mate was doing. Ciel blew air out his slightly parted lips in short, strangled puffs, causing the curtain of hair to sway rhythmically. “What. What. Else. Poe?” he panted, punctuating each word, then linking them together with the effort it it took to enunciate them, “whatelse isthere… behind thewaterfall?”

Poe licked his lips, keeping his eyes on Ciel and giving him a comforting squeeze as he held him still. “Oh, lots of things. Um, there’s the gifts you’ve given the Master and me over the years and some things I think Aurora will like. Some of them I’ve had for a very long time since I never got the chance to give them to her before… But I will this time for sure! Because she’ll be here soon!” he said, voice dropping briefly, only to brighten again. Sebastian’s thrumming croons could be heard both physically and in the bond, louder than they’d been moments previous and Poe tightened his grip again as the Unfallen finally sunk his hands in the last few inches, carefully cradling the little life curled up inside his mate and ever so gently beginning to draw her out.

“Thas nice Pooooooe! God no! Stop! Sebastian!” Ciel cried, jerking up so suddenly into a sitting position, that he broke from Poe’s restrictive too-tight grasp, curled over his belly and cradled it possessively. He felt the thundering of her heart as distinct as the pulse that beat against his mate’s hands.The rhythm of it mimicked his own as he gazed up into Sebastian’s eyes, shaking and pleading as his sobs turned into silent tears for this to be over. Just under his flesh, the baby squirmed excitedly in Sebastian’s gentle hold, her tiny foot breaking the surface, revealing wiggling blue-lacquered toe nails. “Ahhh! Hurry! Hurry Sebastian!” Ciel wailed, head flinging back as great silver-blue wings tore wetly from his back, snapping open in wide arcs and curving protectively around his body to shield he and the little princess. This was _their_ moment. She’d belonged to him first and as her head emerged, cradled safely in her father’s large hand, his head fell forward to kiss her soft, wispy curls. 

Sebastian’s larger wings enveloped Ciel’s, trapping all of them within their embrace as their daughter finally came into the world. She was beautiful like Ciel, alluring and sweet with divinity, profoundly precious. The sky overhead lit up with turquoise, emerald, rippling in lazy waves as Aurora was born and drew her first breath beneath the lights for which they’d named her. Her eyes were closed and her wails did not fill the air for she had no fear for the world that welcomed her and Sebastian let out a quiet, elated laugh, barely more than a breath of his own really as he looked at the miracle they’d created together; she was perfect. She could be nothing else. 

He swaddled her in threads softer than silk, weaving them over her with his fingertips even as he offered her to his mate so that he could mend any damage that had been done to the young man’s body during the ordeal. Poe hovered over Ciel’s shoulder between the press of all the plush feathers between them, undeterred and too excited to back off as he finally laid eyes on his precious soulmate. When Ciel reached to take her, she finally opened her eyes, the same vibrant sapphire hue as Ciel’s and veined in amethyst for the touch of garnet from her other father. She cooed ever so quietly in greeting as one tiny, delicate fist wormed its way out of the cloth that clothed her and waved vaguely in the air and her tiny, glowing consciousness could be felt through the bond she shared with all of them, family; home.

Ciel squeezed her, not too hard, but too fervently to be considered gentle. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until her pudgy little hand touched his cheek; he held it there, tears welling in his eyes and spilling over. He nuzzled his daughter, inhaling her warm, sweet baby scent, cooing softly to her with a levity he’d never felt before, “Rory, Rory, Rory, I love you so much.” His lips found the crease in between her neck and shoulder and blew lightly, tickling her and falling in love with the small peel of giggles that sounded amongst them. When a collective adoring sigh from all three males heated their feathered cocoon, Ciel’s wings fluttered open, and he spread his newly clothed legs to admit the little familiar more closely within their midst. “Are you ready to hold your mate?” he asked Poe, kissing his little angel again, and handing her over to his most trusted friend. 

Sebastian shifted from before to behind his mate, curving his large wings in around all of them, half shielding them from the rest of the world. He rested his chin on Ciel’s shoulder while his hands settled around his middle with familiar and soothing pressure as the little raven familiar shuffled forward, hands outstretched reverently to receive the little bundle that was his soulmate. His scarlet eyes were wide with awe and glassy with elated tears as he looked to Ciel and then back to Aurora again, scarcely able to take his eyes off of her as she returned his gaze with curious familiarity. “I love you,” he told her quietly, cradling her tenderly in one arm between he and Ciel and stroking the fingers of his other hand over the downy midnight navy strands of her hair, “I always have.”

Ciel leaned back into his own mate, planting a kiss upon his lifted cheek and closed his eyes. Poe and Rory’s love was one that was beautiful, perfect and pure, and wholly different than his and Sebastian’s. _Remember when I was six and you introduced me to poetry by reading me Neruda? For years I revered that one sonnet, and dreamed about such a romance but only because I didn’t understand it. Now I love you **fully** knowing how, and when, and from where. And while I love you without reservation, it **is** riddled with complexity and with a pride that could rival your brother’s; and I do know other ways to love than this, but I reject each and every one. You are **mine** and there will be no other._

_I could ask you to love me any other way no more than I could love you without making my home in you my darling. To love with a love that is more than love in life and death, and eternity,_ came Sebastian's hushed reply, warm, sweet, and thick like honey through their bond, heavy with devotion as were his lips when he pressed them to the silvered mark that branded Ciel as his, watching his family finally safe, finally home where they belonged together.

***

Snake’s vertical golden slits flickered open when he heard a faint scratching sound to his right. Of course his mate would have taken up the ancient tome and his quill after he'd fallen asleep, not wanting to waste a minute in editing the final parts of the happy ending, so that it met his high standards. Two months had gone by since the birth of the singularly unique immortal human filled with grace and everyone in both Heaven and Hell had been talking about it, pestering both he and Maltheal for answers they both refused to give: Where was the new holy family hiding? When would they emerge? Who did she most resemble? What abilities had been gifted to her through both her fathers? Had she already been promised to someone?

Naturally, they were still in Eden; Sebastian and Ciel sometimes went to the surface, whether to fetch some frivolous items or to tend to some urgent matters, but always left her in the care of her fated one when they did. They received weekly visits from their closest friends who knew of their whereabouts and had swiftly fallen in love with his cousin, as both he and his mate had. Aurora was perfect blend of angelic, human and demonic and had inherited the best of her parents with not even a subtle hint of a flaw. As for gifts, she had many, most of which were still dormant in her infancy, but were likely to make themselves known by the age of five. His closest friend, the once mortal boy had grumbled that he would have liked her to have been gifted the ability to self-potty train and to sleep through her nights from birth. And yet, he hadn’t meant it completely; these very human instances served to remind him that she too would make mistakes and would need the understanding that only he could provide. 

But that was for later. For now, Snake cleared his throat and glanced adoringly at his lover, the thin sheet barely covering his lap in their bed as he sat upright against the oak headboard, working on his masterpiece. “Have I been asleep long, Mal? Have you checked on our loved ones since I nodded off?” 

The scarred God looked over at his mate, adjusting the delicate reading glasses he wore as he half-smiled at Snake. “I’s been maybe jus’ un’ner an ‘our, Poppit,” he replied fondly, still writing the last details of the divine birth of his great niece, his first successful creation and most certainly not his last, even though he was not looking at the page. “Why dontchya jus’ bring ‘em ta bed now love? I know ‘ow much ya like ‘avin’ ‘em tucked imbetwixt us an’ I’ll be done wit this in jus’ a tic.”

Snake hummed his agreement and stole out of the bed, heading past the chest of drawers that kept their companions snuggly tucked in for the evening and towards the small nest sat atop their table. Wrapped in its midst in a variety of soft patchwork quilts, knitted scarves and tea-cozie-like creations accentuated with flowers, pompoms and frills was the egg that bore their own little miracles. Snake’s breath hitched at the sight of it nestled there so warmly, so comfortably, and he swooped upon it, surround it with arms and powerful opal, leather wings, touching his sparsely scaled cheek to it and crooning low in his throat in a language only the twins and his mate would understand. “How I miss you even during slumber, my little hatchlings. Come join us for the evening,” he hissed low and melodic to them. 

As he lifted the egg, he felt their movement just under the shell. Snake’s eyes glowed with unconcealed love and veneration as he watched their limbs disentangle from one another; they no doubt had been holding each other to provide themselves with extra heat. There would be no need for it in his and Maltheal’s bed, not when they were safe and snuggled between them. He lay the egg between both their pillows, fluffing them excessively to assure a perfect distribution of softness, fussed over the firmness of the mattress, kneading at it until he heard a contented sigh from within their small shelter, then draped his lithe form over it to assess whether there had been any new changes in the consistency of the shell itself in the form of chips or fissures. 

Undertaker watched his mate fussing over the egg that currently housed their offspring with such profound adoration; he had to pause in his final stretch of his narration just to properly appreciate and soak in the sight of him. The twin heartbeats that could be heard within which had come as a surprise when they had first heard them, seeing as they bore only one soul between them, but it was not an unhappy development. He supposed it even made sense since he himself was a twin, but he had not predicted that one soul he’d fashioned would naturally come to split like it had. He breathed a soft affectionate laugh, unable to keep his own elation to himself. Everything had gone according to plan. 

He looked down at the page and swiftly finished off what he’d started oh so very long ago, _And they lived happily... Thus ends the first untold testament of Ciel and Asmodeus, First Angels of free will._ and signed it _Regards, The Reaper King._ Before he shut the text, buckling the leathered belt that held the thick bound journal closed, the new testament to revolutionize and make honest a religion the world over. He set a hand on it for a long moment before he put it aside and haphazardly set his spectacles on top of it. He’d been telling the story for so long now and it was finally finished. Reaching out to brush his fingers over Snake’s brow, tucking back spider-web fine strands behind a delicately pointed ear and looking at his vibrantly proud and adoring mate with the product of all his efforts, he could not find loneliness in the ending. The story, their story, was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have commented, left us kudos, bookmarked and subscribed, who have sought us out on Tumblr and left us asks, head canons and praise. You have made this writing adventure so very rewarding! - Xo Chrome & Xandie


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